


The Beauty Underneath

by Psychotic_Jedi



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera (2004)
Genre: F/M, Minor Violence, Not Raoul friendly, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13420449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychotic_Jedi/pseuds/Psychotic_Jedi
Summary: The lives of Erik and Christine unexpectedly collide. An alternate ending to the 2004 movie, starting from the time Raoul and Christine leave Erik's lair.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has nothing at all to do with Love Never Dies. The whole time I was writing it, no other title came to mind except the current one. If you have any suggestions for a better title, I am open to them. 
> 
> Please review. Reviews are what keeps me writing. I thank you.
> 
> ~PJ

  
  
  
  
  
"Come Christine!" Raoul gasped, glancing behind them. "That madman may be upon us at any moment!"

  
  
Christine fell against the tunnel wall. "He let us go, Raoul," she said breathlessly. "He'll not follow us."

  
  
Raoul gave her a doubtful look. "I do not trust that he won't."

  
  
They continued to rush through the maze of tunnels, fearing they would find no way out before the burning building collapsed upon them. Turning into another tunnel, they saw with relief that Meg GIry was running towards them.

  
  
"Mother sent me!" she said urgently. "There is only one way out from here! Follow me!"

  
  
After many more twists and turns, they found themselves at the base of a very steep set of stairs. "This will lead us to a small window," Meg gasped. "But we must hurry- the fire may have already blocked the way."

  
  
Finally emerging from the building, they saw Madame Giry standing next to a carriage, the blazing Opera House reflecting in her tear filled eyes.

  
  
"Mother!" cried Meg as she ran into her arms.

  
  
"Oh, thank God!" Madame Giry breathed. She motioned for them to climb into the carriage. "Let us leave this awful place!"

  
  
It seemed like an eternity to Christine before they reached the DeChagny estate. Raoul rushed them inside, where he ordered the butler to bring blankets and hot tea. He then ushered them into a large sitting room and sat them next to a warm fire. The butler and housekeeper soon arrived with blankets and tea, which Raoul and the women accepted eagerly. Although the tea and blankets were warm and comforting, Christine could not stop shivering. Raoul moved to her side, and put his arm around her shaking shoulders.

  
  
"She is in shock," Madame Giry said. "This evening has been more horrible for her than for anyone else."

  
  
"Follow the housekeeper to the rooms upstairs," Raoul said. "A good nights’ rest will benefit us all."

 

  
When Christine finally fell into the soft bed, she fell asleep instantly.

 

  
  
****

 

  
_   
_ _ An angel of music..... a soothing voice.... a patient teacher.... a jealous master..... a skeletal face.... _

_   
_ _   
_ __ " **Make your choice!".**.... a heart wrenching sob.... " **Christine, I love you...."**

  
  
Christine woke to find Madame Giry shaking her.

 

  
"You have had a terrible nightmare- you were screaming," Madame Giry said with a worried look on her face.

  
  
Christine closed her eyes as they filled with tears. "I cannot help but think of..... him.... his voice.... his face...." She buried her face into a pillow.

  
  
Madame Giry placed a loving hand on her arm. "I cannot tell you that these dreams will pass." she said gently. “I cannot tell you that you will stop hearing his voice or seeing his face. Some scars never heal."

  
  
Madame Giry remained at Christine's side until she again fell into a troubled sleep.

 

  
  
****

  
  
Christine awoke the next day to find the curtains around her bed drawn and hushed voices speaking beyond it. A moment later the curtains parted and Madame Giry peeked in. "A doctor is here, Christine," she said. "He may be able to help you."

  
  
At Christine's nod, a middle aged man with a kind smile entered, followed closely by Raoul who had a very concerned look on his face.

  
  
The middle aged man approached her bedside. "I am Doctor Rouchette, mademoiselle," he said gently. "I understand you have suffered through several very traumatic events."

  
  
Christine only nodded.

  
  
"Are you injured?" Dr. Rouchette asked.

  
  
Christine shook her head no.

  
  
"How well did you sleep?" he asked.

  
  
"A nightmare," Christine said. "A terrible nightmare."

  
  
Dr. Rouchette removed a small glass vial from his bag and handed it to Raoul. "A few drops of this each night will help her sleep." He then turned back to Christine. "The nightmares will pass. It may take time, but they will. In the meantime, make sure to get as much fresh air and exercise as you can. That will do you better than any type of medicine."

 

  
  
******  
  
  
  
A few days later, Christine and Raoul returned from a walk to find Meg sobbing in the entryway. Madame Giry stood nearby, a letter in her hand and a troubled look on her face.

  
  
"A distant relative of ours has need of us in London," she said. "We are to start for Rouen in the morning."

  
  
Christine eyes instantly filled with tears, and she pulled Meg into a fierce hug. "Surely you need not be there so soon?"

  
  
Madame Giry's lips formed a hard line. "We must go," she said firmly. "It is a matter of some urgency."

  
  
Raoul looked stunned. "Can you not wait a few more days? Christine has need of you both right now.”

  
  
“I am sorry,” Madame Giry said. “But we must leave as planned.”

  
  
The remainder of the day was a flurry of activity as Madame Giry and Meg prepared for the long journey to Rouen. Christine spent every moment she could in their company, hoping somehow that the next morning would not come.

  
  
Meg and her mother rose early and were gone almost before Christine and Raoul had a chance to say goodbye.

  
  
"I will miss you terribly!" Meg cried from the carriage window. "And I will write as often as I can!"

  
  
Christine waved until the carriage was out of sight, unable to speak. The emptiness she felt deep in her heart devastated her. She could not stop tears from streaming down her face.

  
  
Raoul took her into his arms and held her tightly. "I am sorry, Christine. I did everything I could to persuade them to stay." He drew back from her and smiled. “But we have a wedding to plan. You will have something to look forward to.”

  
  
But Christine could not stop the tears as Raoul led her back into the house. She passed the rest of the day in a daze, tears filling her eyes at every attempt to comfort her. She retired to her bedroom early, hoping desperately to fall asleep quickly and forget for a moment the terrible void she felt at the absence of Madame and Meg Giry. Just as her head hit her pillow, she heard a soft knock at her door. Slowly opening it, she was surprised to see Raoul standing there.

  
  
He smiled at her gently and said, "I just wanted to wish you a good night. I hope you sleep well." He bent slightly and kissed her forehead.

  
  
As he turned to go, Christine reached out to stop him. "Stay with me tonight," she said, her eyes pleading.

  
  
At Raoul's hesitation, she said, "I have no one else but you, Raoul. Everyone has left me."

  
  
Raoul was silent but allowed her to lead him to the bed.

 

  
  
******   


 

  
The next few weeks passed slowly for Christine. It became increasingly hard for her to want to leave the house, or to even eat. Although Raoul returned to her bed eagerly, it did nothing to brighten her solemn mood.

  
  
One night, just as they had fallen asleep, Raoul jerked awake at the sound of a loud voice and slamming doors.

  
  
"What is it, Raoul?" Christine asked sleepily.

  
  
He pulled on his trousers and ran to the bedroom door. As the stern voice drew nearer, Raoul rushed back to the bed and threw Christine’s night clothes at her.

  
  
"Get dressed, and hurry!" Raoul said urgently.

  
  
"Who is it?" Christine asked fearfully.

  
  
"My brother Phillipe," Raoul said nervously. "He was not to arrive for another month..."

  
  
Before Raoul could continue, the door crashed open and a tall man with dark hair entered. The small lantern he held gave off a faint light, but it was enough to see the dark look that came to the man’s eyes as he took in the scene before him.

  
  
In two quick strides, the man approached Raoul and seized a handful of his shirt. 

 

"Wait, Phillipe-" Raoul pleaded, then was quieted as Phillipe gave him several blows to the face.

  
  
"I cannot believe what I am seeing," Phillipe growled menacingly. "You are a disgrace to the house of DeChagny!" 

 

He drove his fist into Raoul's midsection. Raoul howled with pain and fell to the floor.

  
  
Phillipe turned to Christine, who had gathered the blankets tightly around her.

 

"And you, Christine, I never took you for the whore that you are." He tore the covers off her and pushed her naked body to the floor. "Get out of here, now!"

  
  
Christine dressed quickly as Phillipe continued his verbal and physical abuse of Raoul. 

 

“I will see you in hell before I ever again call you my brother!”

  
  
Christine cried out as Phillipe slammed his fist into Raoul’s nose. As Raoul again fell, Phillipe turned to Christine and backhanded her several times across her face.

 

“You will never show yourself here again, _mademoiselle_ ,” he sneered at her. “I will not treat you so leniently next time.”

  
  
Christine staggered from the room and rushed down the stairs, holding a shaking hand to her aching cheek. She found the housekeeper waiting near the bottom step with a grim look on her face.

 

“The master has been quite clear," she said severely. "You must leave at once.”

  
  
Christine could hear wind howling and rain spattering on the windows. She looked down at her thin night dress and then up to the housekeeper’s cold eyes. 

 

“I have nothing but this as clothing,” she pleaded. “Surely you can spare something?”

  
  
The housekeeper's’ face softened a little and she turned to a waiting maid. “Run and fetch Latterly’s old clothing and bring them to me at once.”

  
  
The maid nodded and rushed off.

  
  
“I am under no obligation to help you, but sending you out into this storm could mean your death, and I will not have that on my conscience,” the housekeeper said.

  
  
The maid returned with a small pile of stained and dirty men’s clothes and a pair of old boots. 

 

“They are much too large for you, but they will have to do,” said the housekeeper.

  
  
Christine dressed quickly, having to hold most of the clothing close to her to keep it from slipping off. The boots were much too large for her, and with no socks she could do little to keep her feet inside them. Upon opening the door she staggered back as a blast of icy wind and rain hit her. As she stared fearfully into the storm, she felt coins being pressed into her hand.

 

“I hope this will help in some way.”

  
  
Christine gave the housekeeper a grateful look and disappeared into the storm.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

On a bright sunny day in Rouen, Madame Giry was walking towards a nearby church when she heard her name being called. She turned, then she saw a young girl from the Inn where she and Meg were staying.

 

“Forgive me Madame, but there is a young man at the Inn requesting to see you,” she said.

 

Madame Giry’s brow furrowed. “Did he tell you his name?” she asked.

 

“No, Madame,” the girl said. “Only that he has been trying to find you for several days.”

 

Madame Giry followed the girl back to the Inn, wondering who the young man was and how he knew her.

 

Upon entering the front room of the Inn, Madame Giry noticed a figure sitting hunched in the far corner, where there was little light. The man coughed loudly, a deep and terrible sound. 

 

“You wished to see me, Monsieur?” she asked, approaching him. 

 

She saw that the man’s clothes were filthy and the smell emanating from him told her that he had not bathed in several days. His grimy hat was pulled low over his eyes, and he did not stir when she spoke to him.

 

“Monsieur?” she asked again.

 

The man slowly reached up and pulled the hat off his head.

 

Madame Giry stared unbelieving at the face that was revealed to her. “Oh my god…. Christine… what has happened to you?”

 

Christine bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. 

 

“Raoul’s brother Phillipe threw me from the house. I had to cut my hair as to not be attacked on the road. I came to Rouen….. I had nowhere else to go.”

 

“On the road?” Madame Giry asked. “Christine, have you walked here?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It is over eighty miles from Paris!” Madame Giry said, bewildered. “And your face, Christine..”

 

“Phillipe struck me.”

 

“When did you arrive?”

 

“Two days ago.”

 

“How long since you’ve eaten?”

 

“Four days.”

 

“Oh my dear girl. ” Madame Giry pulled Christine into her arms and held her tightly as she cried. “I will have the innkeeper’s wife bring you some food and arrange a hot bath,” she said, assisting Christine to her feet. “I will send Meg for the doctor. He is at the corner Inn, with Erik.”

 

Christine flinched and pulled away from her. “Erik… he… he is here?”

 

“The letter we received was from him, asking us to come to Rouen,” Madame Giry confessed. “I told you it was from a distant relative because I did not wish for you to become more distraught.”

 

Christine’s mind was swirling. “The fire… I thought he was dead.”

 

“He is very ill from the smoke in his lungs, but he is alive.” Madame Giry said. “Come, we must get you something to eat, and while you are bathing I will send for the Doctor.”

 

Christine nodded and allowed herself to be led to the dining area of the Inn.  _ Erik, my angel of music…. _

 

 

****

 

After Christine had enjoyed a refreshing bath and had dressed in clean clothes, she emerged from her room to find Madame Giry and Meg standing next to a tall, regal looking man. Meg rushed to greet her.

 

“Oh Christine! Mother told me everything that has happened,” she said, holding Christine tightly.

 

“Christine, this is Dr. Jekyll,” Madame Giry said.

 

Dr. Jekyll smiled and motioned for Christine to sit in a nearby chair, then stood next to her. He lifted her chin and examined the bruising, probing it gently with his fingers. “I have a poultice for the swelling, and the bruising will fade soon enough.” He put a stethoscope on her back and listened as she breathed. “The same poultice may be used for your cough.” Christine removed her shoes and allowed Dr. Jekyll to examine her blistered and bleeding feet. “I have a salve for these sores, but you will need to keep them wrapped until they heal.” As he stood, he gave her a kind smile. “As for the emotional scars, they will pass in time.” 

 

Christine frowned, remembering Madame Giry’s words: “ _ Some scars never heal.” _

 

Dr. Jekyll rose and removed the medicines from his bag. Christine noticed that his face was suddenly dripping with sweat. He gave the women a weak smile and said, “I am sorry, but I must leave at once. Other patients are waiting for me. Good day.” He rushed from the room.

 

Madame Giry furrowed her eyebrows at his sudden departure, then motioned for Meg to start making the poultice. She sat at Christine’s side. “Erik wants us to leave for Calais early tomorrow morning. It is still dangerous for him here.”

 

Christine nodded, then softly asked, “Will he allow me see him?”

 

Madame Giry shook her head firmly. “He is very angry. He did not expect to see you again.”

 

 

****

Christine awoke early the next morning to angry voices outside her window. Rising from her bed, she walked to the window and peered through a small slit in the curtains. Two men wearing traveling cloaks stood by an awaiting carriage, their backs to her. Christine jumped slightly as one of them spoke curtly to the other.

 

“We cannot keep this pace, Erik!” a heavily accented voice said angrily. “It is completely unreasonable!”

 

“I cannot risk another day here, Nadir!”

 

Christine’s heart leapt as she heard Erik’s voice. He coughed heavily and Christine saw his arm jerk towards his face. “This mask makes it near impossible for me to hide. Too many have seen me already. The gendarmes may be upon us at any moment.”

 

“But it takes nearly three days to reach Calais!” the man Nadir said. “We cannot make it there without stopping for food and rest!”

 

“We leave as soon as possible,” Erik said curtly. “We stop only to change horses.” He gestured for Nadir to follow him and they walked towards the stables.

A few moments later, Christine heard a soft knock on her door. When she opened it, she saw Meg standing there with a tired look on her face. “Mother says  we must leave immediately,” she said yawning. “The men are waiting for us.” She handed Christine a traveling dress and a bonnet. “Meet us at the carriages.”

 

Christine dressed quickly, and adjusted the bonnet around her head. It felt strange; she had never worn one before and was missing her long brown hair.

 

As she emerged from the Inn into the cold morning air, she found Dr. Jekyll and the man Erik had called Nadir standing by the carriages. Erik what nowhere to be seen. Dr. Jekyll smiled at her and gestured to Nadir. “Allow me to introduce Nadir Kahn, an old friend of Erik’s.”

 

Christine smiled at Nadir as he inclined his head towards her. 

 

“Mademoiselle.” He was slightly shorter than her, and powerfully built. His skin tone and accent were unfamiliar to her.

 

Just then Madame Giry and Meg emerged from the Inn. Dr. Jekyll opened the door of the end carriage and gestured for the women to enter. “Erik is anxious to get started. He wants to reach Calais by tomorrow.”

 

 

****

 

 

The hours inside the carriage seemed endless. They could only sleep a few short minutes at a time, and had little time to eat when they stopped to change horses. Christine saw Erik only once, and he did not look at her. They traveled all day and into the night. 

 

In the afternoon of the second day, Meg gestured out the window and whispered tiredly, “Calais. At last.”

 

They stopped at the first Inn they came to. Madame Giry, Meg, and Christine stepped from the carriage wearily, and saw only Nadir and Dr. Jekyll emerge from the other. 

 

“We will rest here for the night, then meet the ferry tomorrow morning,” Dr. Jekyll told them.

 

Christine retired to her room and collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Before she drifted off to sleep, she heard Nadir and Erik talking in the hallway.

 

“It is important that I reach London as soon as possible,” Erik said firmly. “I have business there. And you must not forget that there is a price on my head. I am putting myself at risk the longer I stay in France!”

 

“The earliest ferry leaves at seven o’clock,” Nadir said. “We will soon reach England and you will be safe.”

 

“Safe?” Erik said bitterly. “I will never be safe.”

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Madame Giry, Meg, and Christine boarded the ferry early the next morning, they learned from Nadir that Erik and Dr. Jekyll had spent the previous night on board, and that Dr. Jekyll was violently ill.

 

“Erik claims the Doctor suffers from a fit of nerves, but I think it may be something far more serious,” Nadir told them.

 

He motioned them towards the ferry deck, then saw to their trunks. Stepping to the rail, Christine looked out at the gathering crowd, feeling a slight stab of jealousy as she heard cries of goodbye and promises of future meetings. Tears fell from her eyes; she had never traveled from France, and would miss it terribly.

 

“Excuse me,” came a polite voice by her side. “But I could not help but notice your bruises. I’m sure there must be a doctor on board.”

 

Christine turned and saw a woman with kind eyes, a concerned look on her face.

 

Wiping her eyes, Christine said, “No, I thank you, I have been looked at by a doctor previously.” She looked away. “A fall down some stairs. It does not hurt much.”

 

The woman smiled kindly. “And do you have family here? We have just been saying goodbye to my brother.”

 

“No,” Christine said. “I am leaving my beloved France for the first time, and I do not know if I shall ever return.”

 

The woman squeezed her arm gently, then said, “Forgive me, I have failed to introduce myself- I am Margaret Thornton, and you see my husband there, the tall one.” She pointed to a man with a severe look on his face.

 

“Christine Daae,” Christine said. “I am traveling from Paris to London.”

 

Margaret’s husband approached them, an amused look in his eyes. Christine noticed that his face lit up when he saw his wife, and felt stab of jealously. He towered over them both, and Christine could not help thinking that he must be at least Erik's height or taller. 

 

“The children are occupied for now, but I expect they shall be making trouble for everyone very soon,” he said, with a smile.

 

Margaret gazed lovingly up at her husband, then said, “John, this is my new friend Christine Daae, from Paris.”

 

John Thornton smiled at her, then held out his hand. Christine, unsure of what to do, just stared at him.

 

Margaret gave a little laugh. “You must forgive us, we come from Milton in the north, where the handshake is very common in polite society.”

 

“I am pleased to meet your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Daae,” Mr. Thornton said, withdrawing his hand. “I trust you will find England to be just as pleasing as France.”

 

Just then a group of children raced across the deck and collided with John and Margaret’s legs. “Mother! Father!” the oldest cried. “There is a man from Persia below deck! He said he would tell us of camels and elephants and a diamond the size of my head!”

 

Mr. Thornton smiled lovingly at his children. “Very well then, bring me to him and we shall hear the tales of this mysterious Persian.” He kissed Margaret on her cheek, then departed. 

 

“I had never thought that I would be the mother of six children,” Margaret said, staring after them fondly. “But they are so dear to us. Although my mother and sister in law find them extremely irksome.”

 

She took Christine’s arm and steered her across the deck. “I hope you will visit us in Milton if you are traveling that way. We will gladly receive you.” She smiled. “John owns three cotton mills. It keeps him very busy, but he is never too busy for me and the children.” They walked in silence for a few moments. “I have been talking all this time Christine- you must tell me about yourself. What brings you to England?”

 

“I am a singer and performer,” Christine said shyly. “My manager wished for me to come to England.”

 

“Oh, how delightful!” Margaret exclaimed. “You must sing for me and the children.”

 

Christine looked embarrassed. “Well, I don’t know. I suppose, if my manager allows it.”

 

Margaret smiled at her, then they both walked in the direction of the lower deck.

 

Christine looked back towards France, feeling like she was leaving a piece of her soul behind.

 

****

 

They did not hurry their travel to London. When they stopped for the night, Madame Giry, Meg, and Christine spent time asking Dr. Jekyll and Nadir questions about themselves. Erik, as usual, did not allow himself to be seen.

 

“I am on the breakthrough of an amazing new drug,” Dr. Jekyll said enthusiastically. “I only need test it a few more times.” He told them he had been born and raised in a lower class region of London, but through a wealthy friend and benefactor he had risen to become one of the best doctors in the city. “We in the medical field are always looking for new medicines to benefit the welfare of the people.” With pride he announced that he was engaged to his friend’s daughter. “Lisa and I will be celebrating our engagement in a fortnight. I hope you all will join us.”

After they all agreed, Dr. Jekyll suddenly stood and excused himself, saying he felt ill. Christine again noticed that his face was dripping with sweat. As he walked past her, he raised a hand to the side of his ear and mumbled softly, “He grows impatient….”

 

Madame Giry and Meg began asking Nadir questions about his life in Persia. He told them that he had first met Erik at a traveling performance gathering in a province of Russia. “He can do the most extraordinary magic,” Nadir said, excitedly. “He would often make things from various members of the audience disappear, and he has even relieved me of my pocketwatch on several occasions.” He spoke of how his Master, the Shah of Mazanderan, had ordered him to bring Erik to him, as a court entertainer. At first Erik refused, then was persuaded by the promise of money and power. “The shah’s mother became fascinated and intrigued by him, often calling him to her garden to sing and do magic tricks for her,” Nadir said. “After a time he fell out of her favor and was poisoned.” At Madame Giry’s gasp, Nadir added, “He was able to recover away from the city in my own household.” He then told them of his son, born weak and died when he was very young. He told how Erik had made the boy’s last days happy and joyful. “It was because of his kindness to my son that I forewarned him of the shah’s orders to have him killed. He fled, and for my actions I spent five years in prison.” He did not sound angry. “When I was released, I made my way to Paris and found him, just as the Opera House was being finished.” He thought for a moment, then said, “His actions as the Opera Ghost.... they are not who he truly is. He is not as he appears to be. There is a kindness about him that he does not allow people to see.”

 

*****

 

When they reached London, Dr. Jekyll offered them a house near his on Harley Street, which Erik refused. He told Nadir to search for a small house outside the main part of the city, where a man in a mask would be ignored and feared. Nadir soon procured one, but Erik spent little time there, preferring to practice piano and write music in the solitude of an old abandoned church near the river. The street children became terrified of him, calling him the Ghost of London because of the beautiful music they heard there, but upon entering, saw no one. He often gave them a brief look at him, which terrified them even more. Word of a mysterious Ghost spread quickly, and Erik was blamed for several mysterious deaths among members of London’s upper class, for which he was only too happy to take credit for.

 

As Christine bruises faded, she and Meg expressed desire to wander about the city, especially wanting to see the London Opera House and the Royal palace. Madame Giry and Erik agreed, with the condition that Nadir accompany them.

 

“I am not a nursemaid!” they overheard Nadir complain to Erik one night.

 

“I require Madame Giry’s assistance,” Erik said, annoyed. “My music will not write itself, and I need her to be my emissary in showing my music around the city.” 

 

Nadir said nothing.

 

“I have told you that you may return to Mazanderan any time you wish,” Erik said harshly. “I am not holding you here.”

 

“You know I cannot return there,” Nadir said angrily. “And you know why I choose to stay.”

 

Christine and Meg did not understand this, and gave each other questioning glances.

 

“You are a good man, my friend,” Erik said, and they could almost hear affection in his voice. “But friends we must always be.”

 

Nadir sighed. “Then I will do as you ask.”

 

******

 

Although fascinated with London, Nadir often complained of the humidity. “I do not know how you can withstand this awful wet air,” he complained on one especially hot and humid day. “It is like stepping into a bath house every day.” 

 

Christine’s favorite place to go was the London Opera House. It was just as beautiful as the Paris Opera House, if not more so. She and Meg would often go to watch the performers practice, and sing the music as they traveled back home.

 

One day as they visited one of their favorite shops, Meg pulled Christine aside and whispered, “You see that man? The one with the fair hair? He was here once before, and he will not stop staring at me!”

 

Christine looked his way, and he quickly pretended to be intensely interested in a pair of women’s gloves.

 

“You should introduce yourself to him,” Christine said with a smile. “He may be a rich English aristocrat.”

 

Just then, the young man approached them and smiled. His blue eyes sparkled. “You must forgive me, ladies, I fear I have been exceedingly rude.”

 

Both Christine and Meg blushed, and found that they could not speak.

 

“I am Cedrick Errol, and am visiting London after a long absence,” he said. “We country folk rarely see such fine ladies.”

 

“Meg Giry,” Meg said shyly. “And this is my good friend Christine Daae.”

 

He took both their hands and brought them to his lips. “I will be in town for the next several days. If you will permit, I should like to call on you tomorrow at your convenience.”

 

“We live near Port Street, by a small hospital,” Meg said. “I am afraid that it may not be a residence that you are used to.”

 

Cedrick’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked at her. “I will not be calling to see the residence.”

 

****

 

Later that day, they emerged from the Opera house to find that it was mid-evening, and that the sun had almost disappeared in the western sky. Nadir was nowhere to be seen. As they looked around fearfully for a cab, a young man crashed into them, nearly bowling them over.

 

Recovering quickly, the young man said, “Ladies, you may accompany me tonight, if you wish! There is a dangerous murderer on the loose, you know!”

Glancing behind him at the sound of police whistles, he pulled them down a nearby alley towards a group of women who stood outside of a large decorative door. From the way the ladies dressed and spoke, Christine had no doubt as to who they were. 

 

The young man walked over to one of the women and kissed her violently.

 

“My dear Miss Lucy, where have you been? I have been quite desolate without you!” He pushed Meg and Christine towards the women. “See, I have brought friends!”

 

Making a sound of disgust, Meg raised her hand to strike him. He caught her hand, then smiled as he looked closer at her and Christine. 

 

“Mademoiselle Giry! Mademoiselle Daae! How pleased I am to see you both!”

 

Christine squinted in the faint light. Although the young man smiled at them, his eyes had an evil, sinister look. 

 

“Forgive me sir, I do not believe we have met,” she said coldly.

 

The man walked them a few steps away from the other women. 

 

“Forgive me, mademoiselle,” he mocked her. He bowed dramatically. “I am Edward Hyde, Dr. Jekyll’s assistant. He has spoken highly of you.”

 

“But we have neither seen you, nor heard of you-“

 

“Dr. Jekyll often forgets to tell others of me, he fears to boast of my talents,” Mr. Hyde said arrogantly.

Irritated by Mr. Hyde’s demeanor, Christine asked, “Would you be so kind as to help us find a cab? We are late getting home.”

 

Mr. Hyde again bowed dramatically. “Of course, mademoiselle. This way.”

 

He led them through another narrow alley, away from the increasing noise of police whistles. When they emerged, Mr. Hyde led them to a weather stained cab. The driver was snoring loudly.

 

“Oi, Smythe! Wake up, you mangy git, I’ve got a job for you!”

 

The man started awake, then looked fearful as Mr. Hyde approached him. Hyde slapped some coins into his hand. 

 

“You will escort these fine ladies where they wish to go. Do not deviate, or I’ll have your head,” he growled menacingly.

 

He then motioned Meg and Christine to the carriage, and assisted them as they climbed inside. 

 

“I hope to see you both again soon.” His eyes traveled over them obscenely, then the carriage leapt forward

 

When they arrived at the house, Madame Giry gave them a look of shock when they walked through the door. 

 

“Where is Nadir? Why are you out by yourselves?”

 

“He left us!” Meg cried. “We looked for him, but he was not there!”

 

“Dr. Jekyll’s friend Mr. Hyde helped us find a cab,” Christine said. 

 

“Thank God he was there!” Madame Giry exclaimed.

 

“He helped us, but there was a sinister look about him, mother,” Meg said. “He frightened me.”

 

“I have not met him, but Erik has spoken of him,” Madame Giry said. “Dr. Jekyll thinks he has marvelous potential in the medical field, and boards him in his laboratory.”

 

“I hope we do not see him again,” Christine said fervently.

 

As Meg and Christine climbed the stairs to their rooms, they heard Madame Giry give a shout as Nadir came through the door. Knowing that Nadir’s calm demeanor exasperated her mother, Meg pulled Christine to a stop. They listened carefully.

 

“You are most irresponsible, Nadir! To leave my daughter and Christine alone in the heart of Paris! Your behavior is inexcusable!”

 

“My apologies, Madame Giry,” Nadir said calmly. “I left the area to find a cab and did not realize how long it would take me.”

 

“They were in terrible danger! They could have been killed!” Madame Giry exclaimed.

 

“It will not happen again,” Nadir said. Christine and Meg could hear slight amusement in his voice. “I promise to be more diligent in the future.”

 

“See that you do!” Madame Giry said firmly. “I fear greatly for the safety of Christine and my daughter.”

 

“Not while I am with them, surely!” Nadir said, trying and failing to sound offended.

 

Madame Giry said nothing, but Meg and Christine could well imagine the look on her face. The next moment they heard her quickly walk away.

 

They listened for Nadir’s footsteps and were startled when they heard his voice call up to them. 

 

“Should you not be in bed? It is very late, you know, and I am charged with your well-being."

 

Christine and Meg rushed up the stairs, and could not keep from giggling


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

The next day, Cedrick arrived at the small house early. Nadir met him at the door.

 

“And who are you, sir?” Nadir glared up at him.

 

Cedrick removed his hat. “Forgive me, I am Cedrick Eroll, calling for Miss Giry.”

 

“It is okay, Nadir,” Meg said from behind him. “Cedrick has agreed to escort Christine and I to parks around town.”

 

“You might have mentioned that before,” Nadir said, giving her a pointed look. “I cannot let you go unchaperoned. I will be ready in ten minutes.”

 

Madame Giry eyed Cedrick warily. “I trust you do not have any malicious intentions towards my daughter?”

 

“Mother!” Meg exclaimed.

 

Madame Giry did not look at her.

 

“On the contrary, ma’am,” Cedrick said. “I wanted to ask your permission to court her.”

 

Madame Giry sputtered, and Meg turned a violent shade of red.

 

“No, I most certainly do not give my permission!” Madame Giry shouted.

 

At that moment Nadir entered the room, his face a picture of confusion.

 

“Madame Giry, surely this is no occasion to shout,” he said calmly.  

 

“Remove that man from my sight!” Madame Giry commanded, pointing at Cedrick. 

 

“Of course, Madame Giry,” Nadir said. He steered Cedrick towards the door, then took Meg and Christine by their elbows.

 

“Nadir, what-“

 

“You told me to remove Master Errol from your sight, Madame,” Nadir said, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “You did not say that Meg and Christine should not accompany him.”

 

Cedrick smiled at Nadir appreciatively.

 

Madame Giry stomped her foot and left the room, muttering. 

 

As they emerged from the house and walked towards Cedrick’s carriage, he turned to Nadir and said, “I am in your debt, sir,” he said.

 

“She is a mother worried for her daughter,” Nadir said, matter-of-factly. “She just chooses to express her worries in a… more forward tone.”

 

Cedrick smiled at the understatement and helped Meg and Christine into the carriage.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Their stay in London extended to days, then weeks. A month passed. Then two. When Christine asked Madame Giry how long they were to stay, she said vaguely, “Erik is writing music. He will make that de cision when he is ready.”

 

During this time, Christine started to become sick in the mornings, and was alarmed when it did not seem to be ending. She also notice that her usually skinny frame had slightly expanded. Not wanting to bother Madame Giry and Meg, being as preoccupied as they were with other things, she said nothing of it. It was soon put out of her mind when Cedrick announced that he wanted to take them all on a trip to his mansion in the countryside. Erik encouraged it, saying that he would be relieved to have some quiet in the house.

 

Christine was very ill on the journey, but told them that it was the motion of the carriage that was making her sick. 

 

Cedrick seemed to become more nervous the further they traveled. Finally he looked at them all and said, “I cannot remain silent. We are not going to my mansion, but rather my castle, on my estate in Dorincourt.”

 

Madame Giry looked furious, while Nadir and Christine raised their eyebrows in surprise.

 

Meg’s mouth dropped open. “A castle?”

 

“Yes,” Cedrick said, his head falling to look at his feet. “I am the Earl of Dorincourt.”

 

“Why did you not say so?” Meg asked.

 

“I have many friends and colleagues in London who wish to arrange meetings between me and their daughters,” Cedrick said. “I wanted to choose for myself.”

 

* * *

  
  
  
  


Soon after they arrived, Cedrick proposed to Meg, to which she happily accepted. And although Madame Giry still did not like Cedrick, she knew the match was a good one, one that would ensure Meg’s happiness. 

 

Nadir explored the castle with child-like wonder, and they rarely saw him. He was also spotted galloping across the castle grounds with the stablemen, seeming to enjoy himself immensely.

 

“Madame Giry, let us make peace with each other,” Cedrick said to her one day. “I am, after all, to be your son-in-law.”

 

Madame Giry looked like she was on the verge of another shouting fit when a beautiful woman looking almost exactly like Cedrick rushed into the room.

 

“Forgive me for not arriving earlier, Cedrick,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Business up north, you know.”

 

Cedrick gestured towards Meg. “Mother, this is Meg, the one I wrote to you about, and this is Madame Giry, her mother, and her dear friend Christine.”

 

Mrs. Errol smiled at them and took each of their hands in turn. “I very much look forward to knowing you all. Cedrick’s letters did not do you justice!”

 

Madame Giry took and immediate liking to Mrs. Errol, for which Cedrick was very grateful. 

 

“I do believe your mother may find me to her liking, one day,” he said to Meg, laughing.

 

 

 

“Christine, you were right!” Meg told Christine later. “He is a rich English aristocrat!”

 

Christine laughed. “I did not expect to be right, and I am so very happy for you.”

 

 

 

 

Christine very much enjoyed the country, but she secretly wished to return to London and speak with Dr. Jekyll. 

 

They spent two weeks at Dorincourt, then Cedrick sent them back to London, telling Meg to pick out the most beautiful wedding dress she could find. “Spare no expense, my dear,” he said. “I want the  future Mrs. Errol to look the part.”

 

 

Late one night after their return to London, Christine awoke to angry voices outside of her room. “No one can perform my music the way she has done!” Erik said angrily. “I will not sell my music so that it may be perverted by opera divas who think they know how to sing!”

 

“I will ask her to audition,” Madame Giry said calmly. “Although it may take some time before she may be the featured performer.”

 

Erik grumbled something, then stomped away.

 

Christine could not help the small smile that came to her lips. Soon she would be back to singing with Erik, who had not spoken or as much as looked at her in several weeks. Soon everything would be perfect.

 

 

 

Christine rose early and took a cab to Harley Street. The motion of the cab made her sick, but she did not wish to stop. Staggering from the cab, she knocked on Dr. Jekyll’s door and was received by his butler, Poole. “The Master may not be available, mademoiselle,” he said in a worried tone. “He rarely sleeps, and spends most of his time in his laboratory with Mr. Hyde.”

 

“I must see him,” Christine said urgently. “I will wait, hours if I must.”

 

Poole nodded, then showed her to a sitting room. “I hope you will not be waiting long.”

Christine sat in a large, overstuffed chair, but she was not comfortable. Minutes passed. She rose and paced the floor. She sat again, and began to tap her fingers impatiently on her knees. An hour passed. Christine paced the floor again, every few seconds glancing at the clock on the mantle. Just as the second hour passed, Christine stood to leave. Just as she reached it, the sitting room door opened and Dr. Jekyll entered, limping and looking exhausted. 

 

“You must forgive me, Miss Daae, I have not been feeling well,” he said in a raspy voice. He sat wearily in a nearby chair. “What can I do for you?”

 

Christine hesitated. “I… I have missed my last two monthly cycles, Doctor,” she said softly. 

 

Dr. Jekyll leaned forward. “And have you been sick in the mornings?”

 

Christine’s eyes widened, wondering how he knew this. “Yes,” she said.

 

Dr. Jekyll’s stared at her. “You are with child, Christine.”

 

Christine gasped as her stomach lurched. She burst into tears. “What am I to do?” she sobbed. 

 

Dr. Jekyll stood and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I am sure Madame Giry and Erik will be able to help you,” he said hurriedly. “Now if you will excuse me, I must return to my bed.”

 

He shuffled out of the room and Christine was left alone. She felt terrified. How could she tell Madame Giry? How could she tell Erik?

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

When Christine arrived back at the house, she searched in vain for Madame Giry.

 

“She and Meg are downtown shopping,” Nadir told her.

 

Christine gave a frustrated sigh and retreated to her room, dread and fear continuing to course through her.

 

 

 

It was several hours before Madame Giry and Meg returned, and during that time Christine had paced several lines in her room and bitten her fingernails raw. She rushed to Madame Giry’s room and knocked forcefully.

 

Madame Giry opened her door and looked at Christine through red-rimmed eyes. “I was just about to lie down, Christine-”

 

“Please, Madame Giry, this is rather urgent,” Christine whispered, pushing her way into the room.

 

Madame Giry sat wearily in a chair and waited for Christine to speak.

 

Christine paced in front of her, unsure of what to say.

 

“Christine,” Madame Giry said impatiently, “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Otherwise I will retire to my bed.”

 

“When you and Meg left me in France, I felt abandoned and lost,” Christine finally said. She continued to pace in front of Madame Giry, not able to look at her. “Raoul was the only person I could turn to for comfort.” She twisted her hands. “Raoul and I…. we…. I knew that we were to be married, you see, so I did not think it mattered…”

 

Christine stopped pacing and bit her lip, trying to keep her tears from falling. “I went to see Dr. Jekyll this morning, and he confirmed my fears.”

 

“I already know, Christine,” Madame Giry said.

 

Christine’s head shot up, and she stared at Madame Giry with wide eyes. “You know?”

 

“I spent over a decade helping foolish young ballet rats who found themselves in your exact position,” Madame Giry said. “You think I would not recognize the signs?”

 

Christine started pacing again. “I know Erik wants me to sing for him again,” she said, hesitantly. “I thought it might be less of a scandal if….if we were to….”

 

Madame Giry gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Erik will never agree to marry you. Especially knowing that you carry Raoul’s child.”

 

“He once wished for me to marry him,” Christine said softly. “Maybe he will again consider it.” She gave Madame Giry a pleading look. “Will you talk to him for me?”

 

Madame Giry stood and walked to her, her mouth set in a firm line. “I will, but you should not expect a positive response.”

 

Christine nodded, and Madame Giry silently left the room. Christine again began to pace as several minutes passed. She whirled around when she heard the door open.

 

“He wishes to speak to you,” Madame Giry said. Her face gave no indication as to what Erik’s response had been. “He is in his music room.”

 

Christine gave her a weak smile. “Thank you, Madame Giry.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

Christine steeled herself as she entered the dark room, instantly feeling disdainfully scrutinized. She waited for several moments, then jumped when she heard Erik’s cold voice over her shoulder.    


 

“Madame Giry has informed me of your…. situation,” he said. “And what you are asking of me.”

 

Christine turned to see his yellow eyes glaring down at her. “I will grant your request, but only because I wish to keep your reputation intact. I will not have my music pandered about by a loose woman.”

 

Christine simultaneously felt immense relief and a sudden sharp pain in her heart. She clenched her fists and drove her fingernails into her palms, trying desperately to keep from crying out.

 

Erik walked a slow circle around her. “You should not expect me to play the role of a doting husband,” he continued. “I have only agreed to the marriage because I require your voice. You will rehearse as I demand. You will perform as I demand. I will not accept anything less.”

 

He stopped before her. She could not meet his eyes. “Dr. Jekyll has recommended a man in town who will perform the ceremony discreetly. We leave for Milton immediately after.”

 

“But Meg’s wedding-“

 

“Do not argue with me!” Erik thundered. 

 

“From Milton we will travel to Lampton in Derbyshire,” Erik continued. “When Madame Giry arrives, she will arrange for me to teach voice lessons, and you will assist me,” he said. “Lampton is remote enough that you will not be…. tempted by pleasures of the flesh.”

 

At this Christine could not help but cry out, her body shaking with sobs. Erik took her hand and pressed something cold and hard into her palm, then reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I will not be fooled by your manipulations.” He stepped away from her. “Now leave me.”

 

 

* * *

 

Meg was devastated when Christine told her she would not be attending the wedding. “But you are to be my maid of honor!”

 

Christine looked at her sadly. “I am not a maid,” she said.

 

Meg’s eyes registered shock, then compassion. “Raoul?”

 

Christine nodded, and Meg hugged her tightly. 

 

“You must promise me you will write,” Christine said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I want to know every detail of the wedding.”

 

“I will,” Meg promised.

 

****

 

 

A few days later and very late at night, Nadir, Erik, and Christine arrived at the residence of one John Utterson, the local magistrate and well established lawyer. They entered quickly and were escorted to the kitchens by the butler. As they made their way down a long hallway, they passed a small table and the big bold lettering of the local newspaper caught Christine’s eye.   **Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde:  One and the same!** Christine was curious, but it was soon put out of her mind as they entered the kitchen.

 

Mr. Utterson was waiting for them there, looking tired and angry. “I should never have agreed to this!” he said. “Magistrates do not perform marriages!”

 

Erik, his face hidden under the hood of a traveling cloak, approached Mr. Utterson and said menacingly, “Dr. Jekyll recommend you. You will not waste my time.”

 

Mr. Utterson gave him a long, hard look, but did not back away or seem intimidated. “Very well,” he said. “Let us begin.”

 

Few words were spoken. Mr. Utterson asked for consent, to which both Erik and Christine responded. Plain gold rings were exchanged, and Erik’s quickly disappeared into a pocket of his traveling cloak.

 

As Mr. Utterson signed the marriage contract, he turned to Erik. “I must write a surname.”

 

“I do not have one,” Erik said.

 

“A surname is necessary for the marriage to be valid.” Mr. Utterson sounded irritated.

 

“Mansart,” Erik finally said.

 

Mr. Utterson handed him the contract, then gestured to the door. “My butler will show you out.”

 

* * *

 

 

The nine hour carriage ride to Milton was long and hard. The motion of the carriage only made Christine’s morning sickness increase, and when they finally arrived she was barely able to walk from the carriage to the Inn. Nadir assisted her to a room and gently lowered her onto the bed.

 

“I will call for a doctor,” he said gently.

 

Christine nodded gratefully and closed her eyes.

 

As Nadir exited the room, he met Erik in the hallway. 

 

“If you continue to keep this pace, she may lose the baby and quite possibly her life!”

 

Erik glanced at her door indifferently. “The child is not mine. As for her life-” he gave a slight shrug. “Perhaps I would be better off without her.”

  
  


 

The next day, Erik told Nadir that they were to stay a week so he could make arrangements with the maestro of the local performance hall, then they would travel to Lampton. Christine was grateful for the time to rest.

As soon as she was well enough, Christine made her way to the cotton mill that Mrs. Thornton had told her of. Walking through the wooden gate, she saw that the mill yard was very busy with men hauling large bales of cotton to waiting cargo wagons, other wagons being unloaded, and the unmistakable sound of running machinery. Soon, a man she thought to be the yard master approached her. 

 

“Excuse me ma’am, may I help you?”

 

“I am looking for Mrs. Thornton,” Christine said.

 

The man gave her a suspicious look, then said, “Mrs. Thornton is very ill and is not receiving visitors.”

 

“Oh, I am very sorry,” Christine said. “Would you please tell her that Christine Daae would wish to call on her at a more convenient time.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” the man said, then gestured for Christine to go before him to the yard gate. Just as she was about to walk through it, she heard a voice calling her name. Turning, she saw Margaret Thornton rushing towards them. The man removed his hat as she approached them.

 

“It’s alright, Nicolas,” Margaret gasped. “This is my dear friend Christine Daae.”

 

The man looked embarrassed. “Forgive me, ma’am.”

 

Margaret gave him an annoyed look. “I do wish you would not call me that, it sounds as if you were addressing royalty.” 

 

Nicholas only smiled at her. “As you wish Mrs. Thornton.”

 

“Oh, you do take delight in teasing me, don’t you?” Margaret said, scowling. She turned and took Christine’s arm. “Nicolas is a dear friend, but somewhat infuriating.” She began walking towards a tall building Christine took to be the owner’s residence. “John and the children will be happy to see you.”

 

“Nicolas told me you were very ill,” Christine said.

 

Margaret’s face fell. “My mother in law,” she said. “She has been ill these past months. We are afraid she will not be with us much longer.”

 

“Perhaps I should call later,” Christine said. “I do not wish to inconvenience you.”

 

“No, it will be fine,” Margaret said. “A distraction will be welcome.”

 

She then noticed the plain ring on Christine’s left hand. “Christine!” she admonished. “You did not tell me that you are married!”

 

Christine hesitated, not knowing what to say. “My husband is the performance manager I spoke of,” she said, thinking quickly. “I rarely see him.”

 

Margaret gave her a grim smile. “My sister-in-law is in a similar situation. She is much younger than her husband, and they have not gotten on since the first two years of their marriage.”

 

She led Christine to a large sitting room, where her husband and children were sitting with grim looks on their faces.    
  


“I have brought a good friend who is going to sing us a cheerful song,” Margaret said to her family. “It may help brighten this dark mood.”

 

Christine smiled and sang a simple but well known children’s song, and soon all of the Thornton’s were softly singing along. Margaret and John’s youngest son walked over to her and motioned for her to pick him up, and he settled on her lap, touching her face with his small hands. 

 

“You pretty,” he said.

 

Christine’s eyes filled with tears, hoping one day she would feel the same way about herself.

 

 

Later, as Margaret was walking Christine to the yard gate, Margaret stepped closer to her and whispered, “How far along are you?”

Christine gave her a surprised look, but said, “Three months, I think,” she said.

Margaret took her hand. “After six children, I know the signs,” she said with a small smile. “But usually women are happy knowing they are about to become mothers, and you seem so sad.”

“I miss my home,” Christine said, trying to sound convincing. “I’m trying to get used to a strange place.”

Margaret gave her a look that suggested she didn’t believe that at all, but let the matter be. They reached the gate and Margaret hugged her tightly. “You must come visit us when your child is born. We would love to see you again.”

Christine smiled at her and departed.

  
  


****

 

Upon their arrival in Lampton, Nadir was quickly able to procure them a house just outside of the town limits. It had been vacant for some time, and Nadir hired help to make it habitable. Erik complained of the primitive architecture, and determined to build another house, one specifically built to contain a large music room with acoustical properties. 

 

The hired men agreed to stay on to help with the new house, one of whom spent extra time studying the building plans, claiming he wished to become an architect himself. 

 

 

He introduced himself as George Wickham of Winchester.

 

“What brings you this far north, Mr. Wickham?” Nadir asked him.

 

“In search of legendary adventures, sir,” he said, smiling. “I have heard there are dragons and wizards in this part of the country.”

 

Christine laughed. “I’m sure you will find them over the next hill.”

 

Mr. Wickham’s eyes danced with humor. “As long as I am in the company of a woman such as yourself, we shall fight them together and conquer the day.”

 

Nadir stared at him as if he were mad, then shook his head.

 

 

****

 

 

Christine took an instant liking to Mr. Wickham, his smile and jovial demeanor helping to lighten her somber mood.

 

They took to walking around a small grove of trees next to the building site. 

 

“Your husband is very reclusive,” Mr. Wickham observed. “Why does he not reveal himself?”

 

Christine paused, wondering how much she should reveal. “It is his nature,” she finally said. “He writes music constantly, and shuts himself up in rooms to concentrate.”

 

“You must find that frustrating,” Mr. Wickham said, giving her a sympathetic look.

 

“Not so much,” Christine lied. “We rehearse together often, and I enjoy singing his music.”

 

Mr. Wickham stopped and looked into her eyes. “I’m afraid I do not believe you, Christine Mansart.”

 

He gave her a slight bow, then turned back to the building site.

  
  


 

 

Erik shut himself away, only exiting his rooms to demand updates on the building of the new house. He made no such demands on Christine, only waited impatiently for her child to be born.

 

“I trust you have not forgotten our arrangement,” he said to her one day. “I expect you to start rehearsing with me as soon as possible after the child arrives.”

 

Christine only nodded, not daring to meet his eyes.

 

“I have made arrangements with the Darcy family for you to teach the children voice lessons,” Erik continued. “Nadir will take you there tomorrow.”

 

Christine nodded again, then sadly watched him walk away from her.

 

 

 

Christine marveled at how beautiful the country was as she rode to Pemberly. Everything seemed to glow like precious gems under the beautiful sunlight.

 

When she reached the estate, she marveled at the beautiful landscape and the structure of the large mansion. 

 

A maid met her at the door and ushered her into a large room with a grand piano. Christine thought that the whole of her house may fit inside this room. She turned as she heard a door open, and a tall woman with brown hair and kind eyes approached her. 

 

“You must be Mrs. Mansart,” she said with a smile. “I appreciate your coming.”

 

Christine tried not to wince- she did not like Erik’s choice of a surname. “Please,” she said, returning the smile, “I would wish to be called Christine.”

 

“Well then, you shall call me Elizabeth,” the woman said, giving Christine an even bigger smile. She took Christine’s arm and led her around the room. “My husband and I wish to have the children educated in all the arts. You see violins, and horns there, and even a drum my oldest son Fitzwilliam insists on playing.”

 

“I am afraid that I will be of no help to you, Mrs. Darcy,” Christine said. “I can barely play simple tunes on a piano.”

 

“Elizabeth,” Mrs. Darcy said firmly. “And you will not need to educate the children in this way. My husband can hardly stand the ‘racket’, as he says, when they start playing.” She walked to the piano. “I wish for my girls to learn to sing, not just for church, but for the stage.” 

 

Christine gave her a startled look. “The stage is not an appropriate place for women of your class,” she said before she could stop herself.

 

Elizabeth only smiled. “Yes, my husband is constantly reminding me of that. He forgets that he is married to a lower class woman.”

 

Christine stared at her.

 

“Do not mistake me, I did not seek him out, nor encourage his affections,” Elizabeth said. “I despised him so completely that I refused his first proposal.” She laughed at the memory. “And now, after nine children, I should like to think he loves me even more.”

 

Elizabeth and Christine were startled as a door to their right opened and a tall man entered. With the open door partially concealing her, the man did not see her. 

 

Elizabeth gestured towards Christine. “Mr. Darcy, this is-“

 

Mr. Darcy quickly approached Elizabeth, pulled her to him and kissed her passionately.

 

Christine blushed and looked away. She could not help wishing that Erik would treat her this way.

 

Elizabeth tried to push her husband away, looking highly embarrassed. “Fitzwilliam, this is hardly an appropriate time-“

 

He again took her mouth and held her there, breathing deeply. “Where are the children?” he murmured against her lips. “We may have time-“

 

With all her might Elizabeth pushed her husband away, gestured to Christine, and said, “This is my new friend, Mrs. Christine Mansart.”

 

Mr. Darcy turned around and gave Christine a horrified look. He looked over his shoulder at his wife and whispered, “You might have said.”

 

Elizabeth glared at him.

 

Mr. Darcy approached Christine. His face was brilliantly red. “Forgive my behavior, Mrs. Mansart.”

 

Christine’s face was also red. “You should never apologize for being affectionate with your wife, Mr. Darcy,” she said politely.

 

A smile lit up his face. “You are most gracious.” He nodded towards the piano. “Elizabeth tells me she wishes for our daughters to learn to sing. Although it is all rubbish to me, I feel it will do them well.”

 

He turned to his wife and smiled, humor in his eyes. He bowed slightly, then left the room.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

 

The next day as Christine made her usual walk towards the building site, she noticed Mr. Wickham waiting in the shadows of a tree. As soon as he saw her he approached her quickly.

 

“I have been dismissed,” he said in an irritated voice. “I will be leaving for Milton in the morning.”

 

Christine’s eyes widened in shock, and at the same time she was devastated. She enjoyed her time with him immensely.

 

“Come with me.”

 

Christine stepped back from him, not sure she had heard him right. “What?”

 

Mr. Wickham leaned towards her. “Come with me,” he whispered. “I know that you are not happy here. If you come with me I can take you back to France and I will raise your child as my own. I can make you happy in ways your husband never will.” His wide brown eyes pleaded with her. He reached out and took her hand. “I am staying at the Bluebird Inn. Meet me there tomorrow morning.” He brushed his lips against her hand and rushed away.

 

*****

 

 

Christine spent the remainder of the day in a daze, thoughts running wildly through her head.

 

_ It is irresponsible, irrational, reckless…. I barely know him… but could he make me happy? _

 

 

The very thought of returning to France brought tears to her eyes.  _ It is my home, I miss it terribly. _

 

After a sleepless night, Christine resolved that leaving with Mr. Wickham would be the best thing to ensure her happiness. As soon as she saw light in the eastern sky, she dressed quickly and rushed from the house.

 

 

 

Her walk into Lampton was slow and awkward, but she found herself becoming invigorated as soon as she neared the outskirts of the village. As she made her way towards the Bluebird Inn, she spotted Mr. Wickham sitting on a bench just outside of the Inn door. He stood when he saw her, a wide grin making his face shine in the morning light. Christine’s heart leapt, and she quickened her pace. 

 

Christine was almost to him when a shop door to her right swung open and Elizabeth Darcy exited, her arms filled with bolts of cloth. Christine stepped backwards and almost fell, but Elizabeth grabbed her arm at the last second. 

 

“Oh, Christine, I am so very sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t see you there! Are you alright?”

 

Christine put a hand to her chest, trying in vain to still her pounding heart. “Yes, I am well, I am just…. out for a morning walk.”

 

Elizabeth gave her a warm smile. “Enjoy it while you can. You look like you are about to burst!”

 

Before Christine could answer, Elizabeth noticed Mr. Wickham standing nearby, although he was trying to be discreet. Her beautiful smile instantly vanished.

 

“Mr. Wickham, I did not realize the regiment was this far north,” she said coldly.

 

Mr. Wickham gave her a weak smile. “I resigned from the regiment a month ago. I have been in Derbyshire seeking employment.”

 

Elizabeth turned to Christine. “Forgive me, Christine, let me introduce you to my brother in law.”

 

Christine’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “Brother in law?”

 

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, failing to notice Christine’s shock. “Tell me, how is my sister, and the children?”

 

Mr. Wickham shuffled his feet nervously. “They are well, all very well,” he said in a rush of words. “We recently moved to Whitstable. You know how much Lydia loves the sea.”

 

Elizabeth glanced down at Mr. Wickham’s luggage. “I won’t keep you. You must be excited to see your family again.”

 

He nodded and hefted his bags. He did not look at Christine. “Good day to you, ladies.” He gave a quick bow and disappeared into a crowd.

 

Elizabeth glared after him. “George Wickham, one of the most worthless men in England,” she said angrily. “He is constantly stepping out on my sister, ignores their children, and leaves them to fend for themselves for months at a time. I cannot stand the sight of the man!”

 

Christine could only stare at the spot he vanished from, simultainiously filled with dread and relief. “I suppose one cannot be too careful around such men,” she said softly.

 

“Indeed.” Elizabeth put a hand to Christine’s forehead. “You are pale and sweating, Christine. My carriage is nearby. I will give you a ride home.”

  
  
  


*****

 

 

A few days later and to Christine’s delight, Madame Giry arrived at the house, surprising them all.

 

“I sent a letter, but seem to have come before it,” she said, giving Christine a tired smile. “Meg sends her love. She and Cedrick are expecting.”

 

Christine clung to her tightly. “I feel so much better now that you are here!”

 

Madame Giry placed a gentle hand on Christine’s swollen belly. “I will see your baby safely delivered. Try not to worry.”

 

 

 

The next morning Christine was even more grateful for Madame Giry’s presence when she noticed blood on her sheets. 

 

“It is too early, Madame Giry,” she sobbed. “The baby is not to be born for another month-”

 

Madame Giry held her tightly. “Shsh, do not worry.” She pushed and probed at Christine’s belly, smiling when she felt the baby’s movements. “The child is healthy and strong. We will just need to keep you confined to your bed from now on.”

Christine frowned at this but accepted it without complaint.  _ This is going to be a very long month. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


Bedridden and bored, Christine was delighted when Madame Giry brought her the music for a new opera that Erik had written. The story sounded a bit familiar to her- there had been a series of strange but horrific murders in London while they were there, and the opera was very cleverly set around those events. She was so intrigued by the music that she did not look up when she heard her bedroom door open. 

 

“I am not hungry at the moment, Madame Giry,” she said, distracted. 

 

“I am glad you find the opera to your liking,” came Erik’s voice. 

 

Christine’s head jerked up in surprise.

 

Erik looked at the papers in her hands and frowned. “But I am afraid that it will not be well received.”

 

Christine lowered her eyes and continued reading. A few moments of awkward silence passed. When Christine glanced up again, she found Erik staring at her.

 

“There are some parts of this opera that are… rather indecent,” Christine said, involuntarily blushing.

 

“It is no more indecent than Don Juan,” Erik said indifferently.

 

“And you wish me to sing the part of a…. prostitute?” Christine asked.

 

“Considering your current state, Christine, it should not at all be difficult for you,” Erik said coldly. 

 

Christine could not help the tears that instantly appeared in her eyes and streamed down her face. Erik walked to the bedside and stood over her. 

 

“You think me heartless,” he said softly. “I may be. But it is you who has made me this way.”

 

He turned on his heel and walked away, slamming the door behind him.

 

Christine sank back into the pillows, her tears falling like silent rain upon them.

 

*****

 

 

“A surprisingly short labor, Madame Mansart,” the doctor said. “You have a beautiful baby boy.”

 

Christine frowned- she still was not used to Erik’s preferred surname. 

 

The baby wailed as Madame Giry took him from the doctor to clean him. Madame Giry then wrapped him tightly and gave him to Christine. Looking down into the baby’s face, she whispered, “He is so beautiful.” 

 

“You may go, Doctor,” Madame Giry said curtly. “You will find your payment with the servant at the door.”

 

“But I still have work to do!” he exclaimed.

 

“I have helped with dozens of deliveries, doctor,” Madame Giry said. “I am quite capable of her care.”

 

The doctor cleaned his tools, put them in his bag and left the room, muttering under his breath.

 

Just as Madame Giry was finishing, Erik entered the room and slowly approached Christine’s bed.

 

“It is a boy,” Christine said, looking up at him hopefully. “I would like to name him Erik.”

 

Erik stiffened and spat, “I’ll not have Chagny’s spawn bear my name!”

 

As he swiftly disappeared from the room, Christine’s tear filled eyes sought Madame Giry’s. “Why does he hate me so?” 

 

Madame Giry looked at her sadly. “I think you know the answer to that, Christine.” She put a comforting hand on Christine’s shoulder. “He will never forgive you for not choosing him.”

 

Christine gazed down lovingly at her sleeping son. “I will call him Gustave. After my father.”

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my dear readers,
> 
> I thank you for staying with me, and an extra special thanks to those who have left kudos. You are the reason I continue to write.
> 
> ~PJ

 

 

 

 

The next several years passed quickly, albeit painfully, for Christine. Erik wrote with fervor, and Christine was made to rehearse the music as he demanded, often deep into the night, only allowing a few hours’ rest before he again wanted her to rehearse. He was always very critical of her singing, and would become angry at even the slightest mistake.

 

“Have you learned nothing from my teachings?” Erik growled at her one day. He rose from the piano bench and swiftly approached her. She tried not to shrink away from him. “The muscles here-“ he pressed a hand to her upper back, “And here-“ he pressed a hand to her stomach, “are too stiff, you must relax them. But too much relaxation can restrict the airflow- you must find a medium. Your stiff posture is causing you to suck in the air, which in turn affects your tone.” He touched her neck just below her jaw. “The lack of coordination of your larynx muscles is causing a register break- you did not struggle with this before!” He put his hands to either side of her jaw. “Again, you are too tense in this area and it inhibits your articulation." He walked back to the piano and sat down. “And your projection is not what it once was.” He glared at her. “We will continue until you improve.”

 

“You are going to completely destroy her singing capabilities if you keep up these demands, Erik,” Madame Giry said to him. “She needs to rest.”

 

“She rests while we are traveling, and after performances,” Erik said firmly. “It is part of our agreement. She has no choice.”

 

 

It was difficult traveling with a small child, but with the unfailing help of Madame Giry and Nadir, Christine was able to be a mother to Gustave as well as submit to Erik’s demands. As he grew older, Gustave began to love the never ending carriage rides, and he especially enjoyed watching his mother perform.

 

Erik was determined to travel far to make his music heard. They went as far as Middlesbrough in the north of England, Eastborne to the south, and many places in between. Erik took them even further, to Brussels in Belgium. His music became so well-known that many cities waited in anticipation for him and Christine to arrive. Erik never let himself be seen, but would always watch the performances from the shadows.

 

While in Brussels, Erik resolved to venture into France, to which Madame Giry and Nadir opposed vehemently.

 

“I was convinced you were mad before, and now you’ve gone completely insane!” Nadir exclaimed. “You will have us all killed!”

 

“Erik, you cannot ask this!” Madame Giry said firmly.

 

“I have long wished to return to Paris,” Erik said, indifferent to their pleadings. “I want to show them that the Phantom still lives.”

When their objections continued, Erik told them that he would gladly travel to Paris without them. “I shall take Christine with me. You need not come, if that is your wish. I am perfectly able to protect her, as well as myself.”

 

Knowing that Erik cared little for his own life, Madame Giry and Nadir conceded. They knew that if there was trouble, Gustave may become an orphan.

 

* * *

 

 They slowly made their way to Paris, stopping in towns and villages to perform in front of small and large crowds. Upon their arrival in Paris, the rumors having gone before them of a mysterious masked man, they were immediately set upon by gendarmes. The city authorities had long wished to find and punish Erik, but he found their efforts highly amusing, continuously leading them to the most derelict parts of the city where they became hopelessly lost.

 

Every night for two weeks performances were held in a concert hall near the old burned out Opera House. The hall always filled quickly, and Christine received standing ovations from many in the audience who were delighted to see her back in Paris. On the last night of their showing, Christine was in her dressing room changing out of her performing clothes when there was a knock at her door. She opened it to find Nadir standing there, a look of extreme loathing on his usually kind face.

 

“The Compte DeChagny is begging to see you,” he said, sounding irritated. “I have repeatedly refused, but as he is the owner of this hall, he has the right to insist.”

 

Christine looked through the bustling crowd of performers. Her heart leapt when she saw Raoul standing near the back wall. _It has been so long….._

 

“I will see him,” she said, avoiding Nadir’s eyes.

 

Christine turned and stepped back into the dressing room, her heart pounding. A few moments later, Nadir reappeared, with Raoul on his heels. She stared at him, not believing that he was standing before her.

 

Raoul gave Nadir a sidelong glance. “Would you kindly give us some privacy, monsieur,” he said.

 

Despite being a head shorter than Raoul, Nadir stood his ground and glared at him. “No I will not. I am charged with escorting Madame Mansart, and I will not be dismissed as if I were a lowly servant!” he growled, folding his arms. “I have no qualms about forcing you from this room.”

 

“Madame?” Raoul questioned. His eyes went to the plain gold band on Christine’s left hand.

 

“Yes,” Christine said softly. “My husband and I met in London. We married a few months later.” Erik had made her memorize the story. She dared not mention Gustave.

 

Raoul stared at her for several long moments. “I have only ever wished for your happiness, Christine,” Raoul said softly. “And now I see that you have found it.” He bowed stiffly and left the room.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Christine and Nadir arrived back at the Inn very late. Nadir bid her goodnight, and as Christine wearily climbed the stairs, she was surprised to see faint candlelight coming from a slight gap in the door of Madame Giry’s room. Curious, she stepped towards it and strained to hear the faint voices within.

 

“Another flawless performance, Erik,” Madame Giry said. “She showed no hesitance or lack of confidence. She had perfect pitch and perfect poise. Even you could see that.”

 

There was a pause, then Erik said, “A flawless performance, yes,” he agreed. “One of many. Completely perfect in every way.”

 

“Then why do you not tell her so?” Madame Giry asked curtly. “You have not offered her a single word of praise in all these years. Surely you believe she is deserving of that now!”

 

“I cannot,” Erik said softly. Christine could hear the pain in his voice. “I _will_ not!”

 

“Why?” Madame Giry demanded. “Why do you continue to make her suffer because of one foolish mistake?”

 

There were several moments of silence.

 

“I can never reveal my feelings to her, Madame Giry,” Erik said bitterly.

 

“You still love her,” Madame Giry said. It was not a question.

 

A chair scraped the floor, and Christine heard Erik’s heavy footsteps move about the room. “I had resolved to myself that I would never see her again, and then she appears carrying another man's child!” Erik said in a desperate voice. “I have tried to make myself hate her, but my desire for her has only deepened!”

 

“You should not keep these feelings inside of you, Erik,” Madame Giry said. “They will ruin you.”

 

“What good can come from it?" Erik said in anguish, his voice shaking. "What good can come from me telling her that I think of her every waking moment? What good will it do to tell her that I am agonized over the way I treat her? That her voice torments me to my very core?” His footsteps ceased. “I have never stopped loving her.”

 

“Why can you not let her see the best in you?” Madame Giry asked softly.

 

“It has never done me good in the past,” Erik said sadly. “I cannot expect it to now.”

 

Christine slowly returned to her room, thoughts swirling widely in her head. Soon she heard soft footsteps in the hallway, a door clicking shut, then silence.

 

She did not sleep that night.

 

 

As soon as she could see light in the eastern sky, Christine rose from her bed and knocked on Madame Giry’s door. When it opened, Christine was surprised to find her dressed and ready. She gave Christine a tired smile and said, “We leave for Compeigne today. It will be a very long journey- Erik is anxious to leave.”

 

Christine hesitated, wanting to tell Madame Giry that she had overheard the conversation the previous night. Madame Giry raised her eyebrows and gave Christine a curious look.

 

“I will hurry,” Christine finally said, and returned to her room to dress.

 

* * *

 

 

They did not rush their journey back to Lampton. They stopped frequently to rest, and rarely saw Erik, as he preferred to stay in his rooms and write. Gustave enjoyed the slower pace immensely, and Nadir had to chase him often to keep him from wandering off. Although Nadir complained of Gustave’s enthusiasm, Christine knew that he was very fond of him.

 

When they finally arrived at the house, Gustave ran through the corridors and rooms as if discovering them for the first time. Erik frowned at him and disappeared into his music room.

 

 

A few days later, Christine was in the library reading when all of a sudden she heard the sharp crack of breaking wood and the unmistakable sound of Gustave’s fearful cry. She rushed to Erik’s music room to find Gustave cowering behind the piano, pieces of a broken violin scattered across the polished floor in front of him. She ran to his side and held him in her arms. He continued to sob, a terrified look in his eyes. Erik soon arrived, his heavy footfalls echoing in the room as he approached them. His eyes blazed as he saw the broken violin.

 

“I have warned that boy again and again to not come into this room!” he shouted angrily. “I’ll not have my music room ransacked by an insolent child! Remove him from here instantly!”

 

Christine kissed the top of Gustave’s head, then looked at Erik fearlessly. “He is only acting as children tend to do. His curiosity knows no bounds.”

 

“I have no time nor patience for children,” he growled.

 

Christine wiped the tears from Gustave’s eyes. “Run along to your play room,” she said kindly. “I will be there shortly.”

 

Casting a fearful eye at Erik, Gustave rushed from the room.

 

Erik glared after him, nudging a piece of the shattered instrument with his boot. “He is fortunate it was only a practice violin.”

 

Christine stood and faced him. “I too have told him many times that he must not come into this room,” she said, meeting his eyes. “But he is fascinated by you. He is always asking me questions about you. When he hears you play he’ll sit silently for several minutes. I once found him asleep outside that door.” She smiled at the memory.

 

Erik looked uncomfortable. He stepped over the broken violin and approached the piano. “I have written new music that I would like to rehearse with you tomorrow.”

 

Christine gave him a look of complete surprise, but he was sifting through the music folder and did not see it. He had only ever spoken to her in commanding tones, never as calmly as he was at that moment.

 

Christine stepped towards him. “Gustave looks to you for attention and approval. He has seen the Darcy children with their father and desperately wants what they have.”

 

“He will not have what I never had!” Erik said fiercely. He did not meet her eyes. “I was never told of my father, and my own mother… my mother never held me or…loved me as you do Gustave.”

 

Christine reached out her hand to touch his arm but he stepped away, then handed her the music folder. He still would not look at her. “Tomorrow at your convenience.” Then he turned and was gone.

 

 

 

Later that night as Christine read through Erik’s music, she was startled as she realized it was a love song.

_Who knows when love begins_

_Who knows what makes it start_

_One day it's simply there_

_Alive inside your heart_

 

_It slips into your thoughts_

_It infiltrates your soul_

_It takes you by surprise_

_Then seizes full control_

 

_Try to deny it_

_And try to protest_

_But love won't let you go_

_Once you've been possessed_

 

_Love never dies_

_Love never falters_

_Once it has spoken_

_Love is yours_

 

The song, unlike all of his others, seemed to speak out of the depths of his soul feelings even he did not understand.

 

_Love never fades_

_Love never alters_

_Hearts may get broken_

_Love endures_

_Hearts may get broken_

_Love endures_

 

_And soon as you submit_

_Surrender flesh and bone_

_That love takes on a life_

_Much bigger than your own_

 

Christine could not hold back the tears that streamed from her eyes. All of the tears she had shed before had been born of hurt and anguish- this time they were for a different reason entirely.

 

_It uses you at whim_

_And drives you to despair_

_And forces you to feel_

_More joy than you can bear_

 

_Love gives you pleasure_

_And love brings you pain_

_And yet when both are gone_

_Love will still remain_

 

_Once it has spoken_

_Love is yours_

 

Christine felt Erik’s words burning in her soul- she had not known he could feel so deeply.

 

_Love never dies_

_Love never alters_

 

_Hearts may get broken_

_Love endures_

_Hearts may get broken_

 

_Love never dies_

_Love will continue_

_Love keeps on beating_

_When you're gone_

 

_Love never dies_

_Once it is in you_

_Life may be fleeting_

_Love lives on_

_Life may be fleeting_

 

_Love lives on_

 

Christine read the song over and over again, Erik’s words to Madame Giry echoing in her mind: _I have never stopped loving her._

 

 

Christine awoke the next morning to find Erik gone without an explanation.

 

“He said he had business in Milton,” Nadir said in a confused voice. “He seemed in a great hurry to leave.”

 

 

Weeks passed, and still Erik did not return. Madame Giry’s health took a sudden turn for the worse, and Christine sent for Meg and Sedrick, who arrived as soon as they were able. Madame Giry's heath continued to decline, and Christine and Meg were afraid that Erik would not return in time to see her before she passed on. Then, late one evening while Christine, Meg and Sedrick sat at Madame Giry’s bedside, they looked to the bedroom door when they heard it open. Erik entered and walked quickly towards the bed, standing at Christine’s side. He took one of Madame Giry’s hands’ into both of his and looked at her with anguish in his eyes. She turned towards him and a faint smile came to her lips. She took her hand from Erik’s grip, reached for Christine’s, and placed it on top of his.

 

Christine saw a tear fall unbidden from Erik's eye. 

 

Madame Giry smiled faintly, gave a small rattling sigh, and breathed no more.

 

“Mother!” Meg wailed. “Mother!”

 

She collapsed against the bed, sobbing. While Sedrick tried to comfort her, Erik withdrew his hand from Christine’s, turned, and slowly walked from the room. Soon Christine heard a soft mournful tune coming from the music room. Leaving Meg under the care of her husband, Christine made her way to the music room and stood in the doorway, listening as Erik played out his pain on his beloved piano. As the music escalated, it sounded like a desperate cry for help.

 

Christine walked to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He shifted slightly, but did not stop playing. Several minutes passed as Erik continued to pour out his sorrow into music of the saddest kind. Finally, when that last mournful note was played, he lifted a shaky hand and placed it on top of Christine’s.

 

“She was the only woman who ever loved me for who I am,” he said, his voice breaking. “She risked everything to care for me- she saved my life.”

 

“Her love and compassion were a constant in my life as well,” Christine said. 

 

Suddenly, Erik hunched over the piano keys, his body shaking with sobs. Christine was startled to see him express so much emotion, leaving himself completely vulnerable. She reached for him and pulled him against her, holding him tightly.

 

“Erik… I must tell you..” Christine hesitated, afraid he would be angry if she told him of the conversation she had overheard. She decided to continue. “That night in Paris… when you spoke with Madame Giry… I was listening at the door.”

 

Erik looked up at her with such sadness in his eyes she thought her heart would break. “I am a fool… a coward… I could never tell you..” he said, his voice breaking. “I was afraid-“

 

Christine took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. He gasped and shuddered, but did not refuse her. She reached for his mask and he took hold of her wrists, a look of fear in his eyes.

 

“Let me see you,” Christine whispered. “I want to see you.”

 

He let her wrists go and she slowly removed the mask, revealing the twisted flesh beneath. His eyes fell in shame, and Christine gently caressed and kissed his scarred and ruined face.

 

He looked at her with tear filled eyes. “Christine…I dared not believe you could ever love me...”

 

She gazed lovingly into his sad eyes. “I have never stopped.”

 

 

They loved each other all through the night, Christine guiding Erik’s hesitant and shaking hands over her body. She whispered her love for him as they moved together as one. For the first time Christine felt how gentle he could be, his façade stripped away by her love.

 

In the early hours of the morning, their strength spent, Christine again took Erik’s face into her hands and whispered, “You are beautiful to me.”

 

Erik looked away. “One day I might believe you.”

 

Christine kissed him deeply, then said, “We have nothing but time.”

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers,
> 
> I thank you for your patience, and for staying with me through my writers block. I will have the rest of this story uploaded soon.
> 
> ~PJ

 

 

  
  
Just as they were about to fall into a peaceful sleep, the sound of breaking glass and frightened cries for help filled the air. Erik covered Christine with his body as a window nearby shattered, sending glass flying everywhere. Across the room, another window shattered and a torch was thrown in, instantly setting the carpet ablaze. Erik grabbed the blanket that was covering them and threw it over the fire, snuffing it out instantly. Shouting and the sound of breaking glass continued as Erik pulled on his trousers.

Christine froze as she remembered a similar night from so long ago…. “Gustave!” she cried out.

Erik moved towards the door. “I will go for him. Find Nadir and meet me at the stables.” He rushed away.

Christine hastily pulled on her dress and ran down the stairs, her eyes stinging from the thick smoke. Suddenly the front door crashed open and several men in dark clothing rushed through.

 

“Find the boy!” shouted a familiar voice. The man collided with her, and she was horrified to see the face of Raoul staring back at her.

  
He grabbed her arms, pressing them against her painfully. “Did you think that I would not find you out? Where is he?” Raoul shouted at her. “Where is my son?”

“Christine!” Erik appeared at the top of the stairs, Gustave beside him.

Raoul pulled a pistol from his coat, pointed it at Erik, and fired. Christine screamed as Erik collapsed. Gustave fell over Erik’s body, crying and trying to shake him awake. Raoul roughly pushed Christine aside and raced up the stairs. He grabbed Gustave and flung him kicking and screaming over his shoulder. Christine watched helplessly as Raoul rushed out the door and threw Gustave into a carriage, which immediately drove away. The other men also rushed away, following closely behind the departing carriage. Christine ran out to the yard, her heart breaking as she helplessly watched the carriage drive out of sight.

“Madame Christine!” She turned to see Nadir staggering under Erik’s weight, his blood staining his jacket and shirt. Nadir lowered Erik to the ground and Christine rushed to his side. Nadir pulled off his shirt, handing it to Christine. “Press this to the wound, it may help stop the bleeding.”

He turned and disappeared into the burning house.

There was so much blood that Christine could not find the wound at first, then saw that it was near a bone  on the upper right side of his chest. She pressed Nadir’s shirt to it, crying desperately, “You cannot leave me now… please…”

  
  
Nadir reappeared with Meg and Sedrick, the housekeeper, maids, and butler. Their clothes were singed but they all appeared unhurt. They all watched helplessly as the beautiful house burned to ruin. Christine continued her pressure on Erik’s wound, and he moaned in pain.  

A groomsmen appeared leading three terrified horses from the stables. He rushed up to Nadir. “I could not save the rest, sir!”

 

Nadir grabbed the man’s shoulder. “You must ride for a doctor, and quickly! The master may be dying…”

 

Sedrick joined the young man and they jumped onto the horses. He grabbed the reins of the last horse and they galloped off.

 

Nadir and Meg rushed to Christine’s side and looked at Erik’s pale face.

 

“Let me, Madame Christine,” he said gently. “Take a rest.”

 

Christine sobbed as she let Nadir replace her hands pressing down on Erik’s wound. “I cannot lose him now, Nadir,” she cried.

“He is not gone yet,” Nadir said. Christine looked at him and was surprised to see tears sliding down his face.

 

The housekeeper stepped to Christine’s side. “Pardon me ma’am, let us get you to the well. The water will cool you, and we can get you clean.” She helped Christine to her feet.

It was over an hour before the doctor arrived. He surveyed the scene before him with shock. Sedrick led him to Nadir and Erik. Nadir had refused to move from Erik’s side, never letting his hands move from Erik’s wound. The doctor leapt from the horse and rushed towards them. He flinched away when he saw Erik’s face.

“Sir, please!” Christine begged. “He has been shot, you must help him!”

The doctor looked away and told Nadir to lift his hands from Erik’s wound. “The bleeding has slowed,” he said. “You did well to apply pressure to the wound.” When the doctor probed the skin around it Erik jerked awake and cried out in pain.

 

“You fool, you’ll kill me!” he yelled, then called the doctor a few words Christine did not know.

When the doctor gave Nadir a look of shock, he gave the doctor a small smile. “He is grateful you are here, doctor.”

 

Erik struggled to sit up and Nadir held him down. “Let the doctor examine you, Erik.”

The doctor gave Erik a fearful look, then probed the wound again. Erik winced and groaned at the pain, but did not move.

 

“You are very fortunate, sir,” the doctor said. “It could have been a lot worse considering the location of the wound. The bullet grazed your clavicle, then entered and exited your shoulder. The bleeding will end soon enough but there is a high possibility of infection. I will need to lance it.”

Erik glared at him, and said a few more words that Christine did not understand.

 

“I will need a hot poker, water, and some rags,” the doctor said. “And I think wine or brandy would help very much.”

 

Nadir shook his head as he pulled out a long knife at his hip. “I have only this knife. The fire has taken everything else.”

 

“We can use the petticoats of the women’s dresses for rags and water from the well,” the doctor said. “As for the pain…”

 

“Cut off a piece of leather from a horse saddle,” Erik said. “I will put it between my teeth and try not to strike you, doctor.”

 

The doctor looked  pained.

 

Nadir walked to a pile of smoldering ruins and thrust the knife into it.

 

Christine knelt by Erik’s side and caressed his face. “They took Gustave….”

 

Erik reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I will find him, Christine.”

  
  
***

Two weeks later, Erik made preparations to leave for Paris.

 

“Erik, the doctor said you need at least eight weeks for that wound to heal,” Nadir told him. “It could become infected and you will die, or you could bleed to death if that wound opens again.”

 

Erik pointed at the sling on his arm. “I am perfectly fine, Nadir. This sling helps me a great deal.”

 

“I can see the pain in your eyes, Erik,” Christine said. “You don’t have the strength to travel, and by the time you reach Paris you will be so weak that you will not be able to stand. What good would that do?”

 

“If I wait six more weeks, Gustave could be in southern Italy!” Erik said. “We will never find him then.”

 

“You will need your strength, Erik,” Nadir said. “You must stay for another six weeks.”

 

“Two weeks more, then I will leave,” Erik said firmly.

 

“Four,” Christine said.

 

“Two!”

 

“Four!”

 

“Damn your pride, Erik!” Nadir shouted. “If you do not stay then I will tie you to this bed!”

 

Both Erik and Christine stared at him in shock.

 

“Very well, Nadir, I shall wait four weeks, then leave for Paris,” Erik said, his eyes wide.

 

Nadir nodded and stomped from the room.

 

Christine covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh.

 

Erik tried to glare at her, but his eyes smiled. “I am anxious to get there, but I will wait. And I promise you that I will find him."

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest thanks to those who have stayed with me through this. It has been a joy to write. I will have the remaining chapters posted very soon.
> 
> ~PJ

 

 

 

 

The next four weeks passed agonizingly slow for Erik. They were able to move back to the old house, although Erik often complained about it.

 

“I  wish it had been this house that burned,” he often growled, eyeing various aspects of the house with disdain.

 

He tried to write music but could not focus. He and Christine became more and more anxious as time went by, and took long walks to try to distract themselves.

 

On their walks, Christine tried to get him to open up about his past.

 

“When did you first start writing music?” she asked him one day.

 

“I wrote my first symphony at age five,” Erik said. He paused briefly, then said, “But my mother did not like me to play.”

 

“Why?”

 

“She never said,” Erik said softly. “I was at the piano with Father Mansart when she came and slammed the lid, nearly catching my fingers. She demanded that I never play again.”

 

Christine raised her eyebrows. “Father Mansart?”

 

Erik gave her a small smile. “Yes, Father Erik Mansart. I am his namesake. In my childhood, he was the only man to ever show me any type of kindness.”

 

Christine knew there must be more to the story, but did not ask.

 

“Madame Giry once told me that you are an architect and designer,” she said. “I saw your work on the house, but I know that cannot be your first building.”

 

“In Rome I apprenticed under a man who was an architect and a stone mason. He was very talented, and taught me all he knew.” They walked a few steps in silence, then Erik said, “I have built many buildings since then, but nothing as grand as the Opera House.”

 

“The Opera House? The  _ Paris _ Opera House?” Christine was shocked.

 

Erik looked slightly offended. “Is that so hard to believe?”

 

“Well, no,” Christine said. “I just thought that the design of the architecture would have taken several men.”

 

“I had help from Charles Garnier, but the majority of the design was my own,” Erik said.

 

“So he is credited for the building when it was you who designed it,” Christine said.

 

“I do not mind it. It was my magnum opus- my one great creation,” Erik said.

 

“Would you ever attempt to build something like that again?”

 

Erik thought for a moment. “I do not think so. I would rather write music.”

 

Although Christine wanted to ask him many more questions, she knew he was getting uncomfortable, so she resisted the impulse.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Erik had figured out the exact day four weeks would end, and was very happy to finally start the journey to Paris. He rose early and just as he and Nadir were about to leave, Christine pulled Erik to her. 

 

“Be safe, Erik.”

 

“We should be back in a few weeks, Christine. And Gustave will be with us.”

 

Tears filled her eyes. Erik lightly brushed his lips against hers then climbed into the carriage.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It took Erik and Nadir six days to reach London, and Erik was furious.

 

“We should be in France and on our way to Paris by now!”

 

“It is your own fault, Erik,” Nadir said. “You nearly killed six sets of horses because of your impatience. And it does not help when you keep your head hidden in a cloak hood.”

 

Erik glared at him. “They may not even be there, Nadir. What if they are in Prussia? Austria? Italy? Spain?”

 

“You should not worry, Erik,” Nadir said. “I’m sure we will find him in Paris.”

 

“How can I not be worried, Nadir?” Erik asked. “Christine would be devastated if she lost Gustave.”

 

“It will take us eight days to reach Paris, Erik. And it may take longer if you get impatient again.”

 

“All right,” Erik growled. 

  
  
  


Eight agonizing days later, they arrived in Paris. Nadir immediately went about asking for horses and directions to the de Chagny estate. He spoke to several people, and they all told him the same thing:  That the current Compte had gambled away all of his inheritance, spending the majority of it on women and drink, and that they were not sure if he was still living there.

 

Erik and Nadir arrived at the estate just as the sun was setting. They had expected the worst, and what they saw before them was an eyesore. Vines grew over every surface, the grass was high and uncut, the once well groomed trees and hedges were now sticking out every which way. The once grand mansion was dark and silent.

 

Erik and Nadir slowly crept toward the mansion and entered the first door they came to. The inside was just as bad as the outside- completely empty of any furniture or decoration, dust and cobwebs everywhere.

 

They walked silently down a hall and soon heard voices coming from a room to their left. Erik peeked in and saw Raoul standing over Gustave, his hand twisting the collar of Gustave’s shirt. 

 

“I have told you, boy, that you are  _ my  _ son, and no one else’s! My blood runs in your veins and you should be proud of that!”

 

Gustave shook his head. “You are not my father! You are mean and I hate you!”

 

When Raoul backhanded Gustave across the face, Erik could take no more. He burst into the room and had almost made it to Raoul when he froze. Raoul had pulled Gustave to him and had a pistol aimed at the back of his head. 

 

“Take one more step and I will kill him!” Raoul cocked the pistol. He smirked. “I have to say that I am surprised to see  _ you  _ alive. But I should have known that they would send a freak to do a man’s job.”

 

Erik stiffened. “Let him go. He is of no use to you.”

 

“He is my heir!”

 

Erik held out his arms to the room. “An heir of what? A house and estate ruined?”

 

Raoul pointed the gun at Erik. “My name is one of the elite of Paris! I am a descendant of royalty!”

 

“And a man descended into nothing as well?” Erik mocked. “I have seen stables in better shape than this!”

 

Just as Raoul’s finger was about to squeeze the trigger, Nadir burst through the door and bowled him over. Raoul’s arm swung wildly and the pistol went off with a loud crack. Nadir pinned Raoul underneath him, then his eyes fell upon Erik and Gustave. They were laying side by side on the dusty floor, their eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. 

 

Nadir feared the worst. “Erik....”

 

Erik blinked, then sat up. He glared at Nadir.

 

“You see the wall behind me, Nadir?”

 

Nadir looked over Erik’s shoulder and saw the large jagged hole that had been made by the bullet.

 

“That was almost my stomach.”

 

Raoul struggled and Nadir punched him in the face. 

 

“Forgive me for saving your life, Erik,” Nadir said angrily.

 

Erik stood and held out a hand to Gustave. “Are you hurt?”

 

Gustave hesitantly took Erik’s hand. “No, I am alright. But I was very frightened by that noise.”

 

“It frightened me too, Gustave,” Erik said.

 

Raoul struggled again. “Get off of me!”

 

Nadir pulled a knife out of his jacket and held it against Raoul’s throat. 

 

“No, Nadir,” Erik said. “The best punishment for him will be to live a ruined life on a ruined estate. He has nothing now.”

 

Nadir stood and glared down at Raoul. He kicked him in the stomach. “If I ever see you again, it will not end well for you.”

 

Raoul curled up in a fetal position, sobbing softly.

 

  
  
  
  
  


The eight day ride back to Calais passed without incident. Gustave seemed to be wary of Erik, but could not stop staring at him. Nadir tried to keep him occupied, but his eyes would always wander back to Erik.

 

The night before they were to board the ferry to England, Erik pulled Nadir aside. “What does Gustave find so curious about me? Does my appearance offend him?”

 

“No, it is not that,” Nadir said. He gave Erik a small smile. “He wants to talk to you, but is afraid to.”

 

“We board the ferry tomorrow. Tell him that he can talk to me then,” Erik said.

 

  
  
  
  


Very early the next morning, Erik boarded the ferry and sat on one of the deck benches, his traveling cloak and hood wrapped around him like a blanket. The cool sea air that washed over him felt refreshing. 

 

A few minutes later he saw Nadir and Gustave approaching him. Gustave looked nervous and a little frightened.

 

Erik tried to use his most gentle voice. “Do not worry, Gustave. I will listen to everything that you need to say.”

 

Erik’s words did little to calm Gustave, but he sat at Erik’s side.

 

Nadir patted Gustave on the head and departed.

 

Gustave fidgeted.

 

Erik tried to be patient.

 

Finally, after several minutes, Gustave spoke. “That man, Raoul, told me that he was my father.” His voice shook. “But I always thought that  _ you  _ were.”

 

Erik’s eyes shot open and he flinched. He was grateful that Gustave could not see his face.

 

“And why would you think that?” Erik asked after a long pause. He tried to keep his voice calm.

 

“We live in the same house, you and mother write and sing music together, we go places together,” Gustave said, matter-of-factly. “Why would you not be?”

 

Erik was speechless. What Gustave said was true, but he had always treated Gustave with such indifference that he thought the boy would never have put it into his mind.

 

“Why would he say that to me?” Gustave asked, finally looking at Erik.

 

Erik’s mind whirled. “I suppose…. that sometimes people may say things…. that they do not mean.” He could not think of anything else to say.

 

Gustave seemed to accept the answer. He left the bench in search of Nadir.

 

Erik did not move until the ferry landed at Dover.

 

  
  
  
  


The five days of travel back to Lampton passed quickly. Erik slowly let his guard down in regards to Gustave, and Gustave in turn became more comfortable being around Erik. He was very curious about everything around him, and would spend hours asking Erik and Nadir questions. By the time they reached Lampton, Erik realized that he had become very fond of him.

  
  
  


  
  
“Gustave, my darling!” Christine cried as he and Erik came through the door. “How I have missed you!”

  
“Mother!” Gustave ran to her and she held him tightly, fearing that he would vanish away again. She kissed his face and let her tears fall upon him. All of the worry and pain fell away as she held him.   
  


Christine gave Erik a grateful look, and he watched them for a few moments before departing.   
  


She led Gustave to his room, and he immediately jumped to his bed. “I am happy to be home, Mother!”   
  


“Come Gustave,” Christine said, smiling. “You must be tired. You will have time for playing tomorrow.”   
  


She changed him into his bed clothes, then sang him a soft lullaby until he fell fast asleep.   
  
  
  


When Christine emerged from Gustave’s room, she found Erik standing in the hallway.   
  


At her questioning look, he slowly removed a folded piece of paper from his coat and handed it to her.   
  


She opened it and read, a look of surprise and alarm rising to her face. “A bill of divorcement?”   
  


Erik looked away. “Yes. All you need do is make your mark, then you will be free of me.”   
  


“Free of you?” Christine asked, mystified.   
  


“You married me out of desperation, not love,” Erik said. “I cannot demand that you honor our contract. I have no right to ask any more of you.”   
  


“Do you wish for Gustave and I to leave?” Christine asked.   
  


Erik lifted his head and met her eyes. “This is not about what I do or do not wish,” he said. “I am merely offering you a choice.”   
  


“A choice.” Christine sounded angry.   
  


Erik narrowed his eyes. “You chose to leave me once before-“   
  


Christine stiffened and stepped towards him. “I am not the person I was then, can you not see that?” She blushed. “I… I thought I had convinced you.”   
  


Erik did not answer.   
  


“Erik, I…. I am going to have a baby,” Christine said softly.   
  


Erik flinched away from her, his eyes wide with shock. “No… no…” he shook his head, not believing which was, to him, the worst possible news. “It is a terrible mistake….there are ways of ending such things, Nadir has told me….”   
  


“No, Erik,” Christine said firmly.   
  


“I will not condemn a child to live as I have!” Erik yelled. He ripped off his mask. “Look at me, Christine! Look at me! You cannot want this for a child!”   
  


Christine reached out and brought her hand to rest on Erik’s ruined cheek. “Our child, Erik,” she said. “And this child will not suffer as you have. We will love it and care for it, together.”   
  


“You are taking a terrible risk,” Erik said, looking at her stomach.   
  


“You spoke to me of a choice,” Christine said. “My choice is to carry this child, and to remain here. My place is here, my home is here, with you.”   
  


“That is not the choice I was speaking of,” Erik said angrily.   
  


Christine gave him a cold stare. “You reproached me for leaving you and now you are refusing my wish to stay.” She turned away from him. “Gustave and I will leave for Milton. Mrs. Thornton will gladly receive us.”   
  


Erik reached out and took her arm. Christine stopped and looked up into his troubled eyes.   
  


“Christine….there is a war raging inside of me- I cannot bear the thought of you leaving me,” Erik said softly. “And I cannot bear the thought of a child being as… grotesque as I am.”   
  


“I have told you before, you are beautiful to me,” Christine said. “And our child will be beautiful.”   
  


Erik searched her eyes, seeing nothing but love and sincerity there. He took her hands in his. “I will not lie to you,” he said. “I do not want this. We have no guarantee that the child will not look like me.”   
  


“No we do not,” Christine said. “But we can love the child, regardless.”   
  


Erik stepped away from her. “I will need some time.”   
  


Christine nodded, trying not to let her disappointment show.   
  


Erik replaced his mask, stared at her for a few moments, then turned and walked away.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

 

 

The next day, Gustave rose early and eagerly explored the house as if seeing it for the first time. When he reached Erik’s music room, he entered slowly, almost reverently, and quietly approached the piano. Sitting on the bench, he ran his fingers over the keys lightly, loving the joyful sound that they made. When Christine heard the music, she rushed to the music room, fearing the worst. She smiled when she saw Gustave sitting at the piano, slowly testing the sound of each key.

 

Gustave smiled at her when he saw her approaching. “Mother, will you and Father teach me how to play and sing? I should very much like to learn.”

 

Christine’s eyebrows rose. “Father?”

 

“Yes,” Gustave said, looking back at the piano keys. “I think I could be as good as him one day, if he will teach me.”

 

Christine’s eyebrows rose even higher. “Father?” she asked again.

 

Gustave gave her a slightly irritated look. “If you will tell me where he is, I will ask him.”

 

“I...... I believe he is in the library,” Christine said.

 

She followed Gustave out of the music room and to the library, her mind swirling with confusion.

 

When they entered, Gustave rushed to where Erik was seated and put a hand on his arm. Christine became even more confused when Erik put his book down and smiled at him.

 

“Are you happy to be home, Gustave?”

 

Gustave nodded enthusiastically. “Very much, Father. I have been away so long, I almost forgot what the house looked like!”

 

Christine was even more startled when Erik chuckled. _He is laughing! He is actually laughing…_

 

“Father, could you and Mother could teach me to play and sing?” Gustave said. “I should very much like to learn. Then I can practice with the Darcy’s.”

 

Erik put a hand on Gustave’s shoulder. “It takes patience and discipline, Gustave. It will not be easy, and you must not give up.”

 

“I will do my best, Father,” Gustave promised.

 

“And now you must give me and your Mother some time to talk, Gustave,” Erik said, looking up into Christine’s startled face.

 

Gustave nodded and left the room.

 

“Father?” Christine could barely stutter out the word. “Erik… I have never heard you laugh before…”

 

Erik gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite him. She almost collapsed into it.

 

Erik gave her a small smile. “On the journey home, Gustave told me that Raoul had said _he_ was his father, but he had always thought that _I_ was.”

 

Christine could not speak.

 

Erik shook his head, amused. “I did not give him any reason to think otherwise. Spending so much time with him has made me become very fond of him, Christine.”

 

Christine’s mouth dropped open. “But last night-”

 

Erik dropped his head. “I did not want you to know in case you decided to leave.” He pressed his hands together, then looked into her eyes. “I have been invited to write an Opera for a special performance for the queen.”

 

Christine smiled weakly.

 

“Of course, if you are not well, I will refuse the offer.”

 

Christine pressed her hands to her slightly swollen belly. “Then I suggest you write quickly. I do not think it will be safe for me to travel if we wait much longer.”

 

Erik leaned forward and took her hands in his, holding them tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered.

 

Erik spent the next week shut in his music room, rarely eating or sleeping. When he asked Christine to rehearse, she found him looking tired and worn, but he still refused to rest.

 

When they started to rehearse, she found that the opera was not like his others- it was a love story between a bird and a fish. The fish first noticed the bird when she came to rest in the tree that swayed over the river where he swam. One day he jumped up onto the bank of the river, risking his life to speak to the beautiful bird. He introduced himself, then flipped back into the water. The strange fish intrigued the bird, and she often returned to the tree to speak with him. This continued for several weeks, until one day the bird realized that she was falling in love with him. The fish returned her love, but the pain of knowing that they could never exist together in one world was almost unbearable. So the fish decided that he would jump onto the bank of the river and stay there, just so he could spend the last moments of his life with his beloved. The bird pleaded with him to return to the water but he refused. He expressed his undying love for her, then took his last breath. As the life was leaving him, the bird cried many tears, which fell on his lifeless form. Suddenly, the fish’s body burst into flame, and soon all that was left was a pile of ash. The bird was startled and devastated as she walked towards the pile. When she reached it, she saw a slight movement, then a tiny head poked out. As the creature emerged from the pile of ash, she saw that it was a small bird, and then it smiled up at her. With great joy she realized that the small bird was her beloved, and that they could to spend their lives together- for she was a phoenix, and her tears contained healing and transforming powers. They spent the rest of their days in happiness. The ending song of the opera was the same Erik had given her many months ago, and she could not stop tears from falling as she sang it.

 

When the song ended, Erik walked to her, and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her.

 

“It is beautiful, Erik,” Christine said, her voice breaking. “The most beautiful you have ever written.”

 

Erik sent Nadir to buy the finest carriage he could find- he wanted Christine’s travel to London to be as comfortable as possible. Gustave was excited to go to London again, he longed to see his cousins, Aunt Meg and Uncle Sedrick.

 

Unlike other times when Erik had demanded she rehearse, he gently encouraged her, stopping when she grew tired. Through his patient teaching, Christine was able to master the songs quicker than she had in the past.

 

The night before the performance as they were rehearsing one final time, Erik looked at her with complete adoration. “I thought you could not progress further, but you have,” he said softly.

 

Christine took his hands and pressed them to her chest, then looked deeply into his eyes. “I love you, Erik,” she said fervently. “I wish you would believe that.”

 

He moved to turn away from her, but she held fast to his arms. “It was not so long ago that you showed me your true self. You cannot feign indifference now.”

 

Erik would not meet her eyes.

 

Christine took his face into her hands, forcing him to look at her.

 

“I know that you love _me_ , Erik,” Christine said. “Why can you not let me love _you_?”

 

“I have done nothing to deserve your love, Christine,” he said sadly. “I have taken so much from you…I have made your life a living hell….. I have planted my diseased seed inside of you…. this is not how you are meant to live! How can you love me? Why do you not hate me?”

 

Christine looked deeply into his eyes. “You know I do not hate you, Erik. Do you see hate in my eyes? Do you see anger in my eyes?”

 

When Erik did not answer, she slowly removed his mask. “Do you see pity? Do you see disgust?”

 

Erik searched her eyes in vain.

 

“I am your phoenix, Erik. Let me give you wings,” Christine said. “You have so much good in you. You cannot keep denying it.”

 

“Madame Giry said the same to me several times,” Erik said, a shadow of affection crossing his ruined face.

 

“You told me once that you would try to believe me when I say you are beautiful,” Christine said. “You must try then to believe me when I say I love you.”

 

She kissed him with fervor, and the feel of his lips against hers awakened a deep desire inside of her. She deepened the kiss, and Erik pulled back from her. “I do not want to hurt you, Christine. The child-“

 

Christine looked into his eyes with complete trust. “You would never hurt me Erik.”

 

His hands were not hesitant as they explored her body that night. Christine moaned with pleasure as he moved against her, and she relished the feeling of him loving her.

 

 

 

The performance for the queen was a great success. She insisted that Christine stay in London and continue to perform for her, but Christine politely refused, citing the impending arrival of her child. She did however promise to return often.

 

 

 

When they had all returned to Meg and Sedrick’s home, Gustave ran off with his cousins and Meg called after them to not stay up too long.

 

“They have so much energy, it is exhausting to me,” Meg said with a laugh and a sigh.

 

She and Sedrick turned to retreat to their rooms, and Erik gestured for Christine to follow him into a nearby sitting room. As soon as the door closed, Erik pulled Christine to him and held her tightly.

 

“I have waited my whole life for what I have achieved this night, and it is because of you, Christine,” he whispered in her ear. “It is almost too much for me….”

 

Christine clung to him as she felt his tears drop onto her head. “You deserve every type of happiness, Erik. You have worked so hard for it, no one deserves it more.”

 

As she stepped back from him and took his hands in hers, she saw with surprise a plain gold band circling the ring finger of his left hand.

 

Erik followed her gaze, then brought her hands to his lips. “I have been carrying it with me all these years, I thought it was time I wear it.”

 

Christine could not help the tears of joy that came to her eyes. “Then…. the baby…..”

 

“You and Gustave have taught me more about love than I have ever known,” Erik said softly. “As terrified as I am at the thought of the child…. _our_ child…. looking like me, I will give everything that I have to ensure that our child lives a life full of love and happiness.” He gently wiped the trails of tears from Christine’s cheeks. “And I will give you everything that I am, so that I may be as a husband, and a father, should be.”

 

Christine brought his hands to her chest, resting her cheeks against them. “Oh, Erik, you have no idea how happy those words have made me.”

 

Erik pulled her close and they stood there for several minutes, just holding each other. Then Erik drew back and kissed her forehead.

 

“It must be well past midnight,” he said.

 

Christine stifled a yawn as she nodded her head.

 

Erik walked to the door and held it open for her. She exited, then turned to go down the hallway to her left. Erik closed the door behind him, then made to go down the hallway to his right. Christine reached out and put a firm hand on his arm before he could step away from her.

 

Erik looked at her, a question in his eyes.

 

“Erik….. you do not need to spend your nights away from me, you know,” she said shyly. She looked down, embarrassed. She could feel her face coloring.

 

When Erik did not respond, she looked up at him and to her complete surprise she saw his neck began to color a bright red, and it continued to spread to his ears until she could see that even the thin line of skin not covered by the his mask at his hairline was a bright red also. She thought to herself that this surely must be the very first time he had blushed.

 

Erik did not look at her, but seemed to be taking a keen interest in the carpet at his feet. “Well, I had not thought….” he stammered. “That is… I do not…. believe it to be…. necessary,” he finished awkwardly.

 

Christine’s eyebrows lifted and she gave a light laugh. “Necessary? We _have_ shared a bed on other occasions, Erik.”

 

The red coloring on Erik’s ears seemed to intensify.

 

Christine reached out and gently but firmly lifted his chin so he was looking at her. She found his eyes burning with a look she did not recognize.

 

“You have just told me that you would give me everything that you are, so that you could be as a husband should be,” Christine gently reminded him.

 

Erik blew out a frustrated sigh. He took her hand and held it tightly. “Christine…. whenever I am with you, I find myself becoming….. distracted,” he said, haltingly. “And I can only think of how much I desire you.” The look in his eyes intensified. “I am afraid that, if you were to spend your nights with me, that I would never allow you to sleep.”

 

Christine laughed again and pulled him to her, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “If that is all you are worried about, then I will gladly go without sleep. However, there will soon come a time when we will both be sacrificing our rest for a different reason entirely.”

 

Erik lifted her in his arms and kissed her hungrily, and Christine smiled at him as he quickly carried her to his rooms.

  
  
  


**6 Months Later**

 

Erik paced the floor in front of Christine’s room, wringing his hands nervously. He glanced at Sedrick who was sitting on a nearby chair, trying to keep Gustave occupied by reading him a book.

 

“I do not understand how you could do this five times,” he said, his voice almost shaking.

 

Sedrick gave him a knowing smile. “I was just as nervous as you are, each time,” he said. “Try not to worry.”

 

Erik frowned. “How can I not?” he growled as he continued to pace.

 

An hour passed very slowly, the only noises coming from the room occasional moans from Christine. Suddenly she gave a loud cry and the sharp wail of an infant was heard. A few minutes passed, then the door swung open and Meg gestured for Erik to enter. He rushed to Christine’s bedside, Gustave and Sedrick following closely behind. Erik knelt, gazing in wonder at the flawless pink skin of the child Christine held tightly to her breast.

 

“It is a girl,” she said tiredly.

 

Erik caressed her sweat covered brow, and tentatively reached out a hand to touch his daughter. His breath caught as her tiny hand curled around his finger.

 

“She is beautiful,” he whispered.

 

“What are we going to name her?” Gustave asked, sounding impatient. “I think we should name her Christine, after you, mother. No one has a more beautiful name than you.”

 

Christine smiled at him. “Thank you, Gustave, but I think your father should chose a name for her.”

 

Gustave pressed his hands to Erik’s shoulder and whispered loudly, “You want to name her Christine, don’t you father?”

 

Erik chuckled as he placed his arm around the boy. “Christine is a beautiful name, Gustave, but I would like to name her Antoinette, after Madame Giry.”

 

Gustave frowned, but it disappeared the moment he saw Meg’s face light up with gratitude.

 

Erik lightly placed his arm around Christine and the baby, then pulled Gustave close. “At last, I believe I am complete.”

  
  
  
  


 

 

_~Fin~_

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I thank you for sticking with me until the end. It's taken me long enough, that's for sure lol. I have some more fics in the works so stay tuned.
> 
> ~PJ


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